Dirty Secrets
by Kirei GothicPoet3
Summary: Harry finds Malfoy strapped to a bed in the middle of Snape's classroom. Why? It seems the Malfoy heir has a bit of a secret, it's time for the Golden Boy to find out exactly -what- it is...Crossover! Harry Potter-Smallville! Draco&Harry, Lex
1. Building Tension

Disclaimer: _I do not own Harry Potter...duh _

_**A/N:** I'm taking a slightly a different approach, I hope you enjoy... Here it is... _

_**Warning**: Semi-pornish scene, NC-17, Male/Male, deliberate cheeziness._

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**Chapter One**

Harry frowned slightly, the blonde a helpless mess before him, pale arms tied tightly to the bed posts, ropes tying his feet drawing actual blood as they cut harshly into one Draco Malfoy. _Who had done this?_ A light blush colored the Gryfindor's cheeks as he took in Malfoy's bareness, the sheer flaccidity of his cock hanging a low nine inches or so, and though the raven haired boy felt embarrassment for them both, he could not stop his appreciation of the blonde's size from ghosting through his mind.

Silver eyes fluttered open as if the dirty thought had been said aloud, coloring the petite boy's features a deeper red. A slow smirk curled the corner of the blonde's lips when he looked up at Potter, the usual mockery present, even in the blonde's state of both distress and undress.

"Hello, Potter," he drawled lazily, as if being tied to a bed in the middle of Snape's classroom, at midnight, was routine. Harry blushed even farther at what his mind was beginning to imply and immediately, pushing the blush down, his long fingers worked at the tight knots of the bed. "Must you always have that super hero complex gnawing at what little brain you have?" The blonde drawled, smirk still in place. Though he made no move to stop Harry, the Gryfindor sensed an unwillingness to leave the restraints. Just as Harry set to work on the last knot, the one around Malfoy's right ankle, which, in Harry's opinion, was the worst of the two injuries, the fair-haired boy had sustained, Malfoy sat up. His hair, a blonde mass of slight curls and sweat, fell into his silver eyes, the orbs flashing, ravishing the oblivious boy's body with just his eyes. "Are you sure you want to do that, Potter?" he whispered and for the first time in the twenty minutes it took to remove the other three ropes, the Gryfindor looked to Malfoy.

The raven-haired youth's eyes blinked a wide, forest green in surprise. Draco's arms were trembling as if struggling to hold himself up, the innocent reading the movement wrong, as Draco was really trying to hold himself back. Draco's eyes drank in Potter's robe-clad body, the utter need to diminish the non-generous clothing over powering, his mind already filling in the blank spots in which clothes covered. And as all this took place, Potter's hands moved on without him, the rope slipping, sticky, from Draco's bloody foot, but the blonde felt no pain.

"Malfoy?" Harry's simple pitch to signify a question seemed to trigger whatever the tension within the young Malfoy was. With a flick of his wrist, Harry's clothes became nonexistent, leaving the flushing, shocked, bewildered Gryfindor, bare. "What the bloody f-?" his exclamation was lost to the wind as the air was, literally, sucked from him, a pair of lips pressing onto his own as he was suddenly on his back. A hard body pressing fully onto his own, Malfoy's cock hot and hard against his own responding member as a hand traveled without destination all over his body.

A slight thrust of the hips followed his stolen kiss, his arms wrapping around the young Malfoy, eyes closing from wide ocean green when he realized the pleasantness of it all. As a response, Malfoy's sharp canines bit into the tender flesh of his lip and he yelped. The unmistakable roughness of rope tying his ankles and arms spreading him somewhat eagle across the satin, black and bloody sheets of the large bed, cooper flooding his mouth. Nips and suckles at his lips followed his sharp yelp yielding to soft moans and whimpers as Malfoy's hands found his hardening nipples and hairless abdomen. The blonde's lips left his own, the skin separating wetly, Harry's mouth trying to stay on his own.

"Damn, Potter," Draco, drawled and the sound was almost…sexy, looking between them at Potter's well-endowed length only smaller than his own by a centimeter or so, "how did you keep -that- from Voldemort?" The Slytherin was pleased to find when the Boy-Who-Lived blushed, it spread throughout his body in a heat wave. He watched as the red started just behind his ears, traveling to his cheeks, down to his strong, but small neck, passed his defined chest and arms and down, even farther, to his cock, the hard, swollen, red length becoming a deeper red, the path pulsating down to the Gryfindor's wiggling toes. Draco's smirk widened, feeling the heat radiate deliciously against him, rocking his hips just slightly onto Potter.

The Gryfindor's head tossed back against the lack of pillows to find ground in what he was experiencing throughout his body, hips thrusting upward to relive the moment. Utter relief poured over his pores when he found his wanted experience with an upward thrust of his own hips. Draco struggled to maintain his control through Potter's thrusts. Head spinning, Draco brought a firm hand to the Gryfindor's hips, his sharp nails digging with purpose into the tanned slight outward curvature causing a sharp contrast of red on caramel brown with another loud yelp from the Gryfindor.

The youngest of the Malfoy clan marveled at the complete consistency of color, even the whimpering head of the Gryfindor's cock a lavish light tan. The sudden urge to taste the skin before him over powered his better judgment to merely fuck him and be done with it. Even as his lips and teeth and tongue preyed on the tight, trembling largest organ of the human anatomy, thoughts of the personalization of it all rang desperately through his head, which he happily ignored. As a Malfoy, and as –Draco- Malfoy, using common parts, such as an ass or a cock was not as personal nor as private as a loving kiss or nip, or suck, far from, actually. For the mouth, Draco thought as his tongue found the hallow of Harry's ear and the dip of his neck, was the tool in which a Malfoy set you onto a pedestal in heaven, or chained you to a wall in hell. As such, this oral visage next to Godliness was only to be used on one, or two, held in Godly light, used on the individual most craved, most desired, a life mate, if one would.

The youngest heir attempted to shudder when he remembered allowing himself to partake in a kiss with the Gryfindor. Tried, and failed, to be repulsed by his actions even as his lips sucked, nipped and licked, his hands pulling, squeezing at Harry's chest, down to his abdomen to lap greedily at the sweat collecting in his clean and quiet tasty belly button. Draco moved downward until his nose nestled softly into the trimmed, slight curls of the Gryfindor's pelvic regions. The hairs a perfect tone of raven like the boy's hair and, with this thought, Draco's eyes moved upward to land heavily on the bright, vibrant green eyes. Had he, on some unconscious level he dared not tread, thought the Golden Boy a beauty, he was awe-stuck now.

The Gryfindor's eyes a fiery green of passion and pleading, eyes closing now and again to take in deep, shuddering breaths though swollen, strawberry lips, embarrassment coloring his cheeks when he realized the young Malfoy's smirk. Harry turned his head to the side in shame, attempting to hide himself in his sparsely hairy armpit, arms jerking at his restraints violently.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Did The-Boy-Who-Lived not know of the honor he was being drenched in, the honor of Draco merely kissing him? Though his own actions puzzled him, and deciding he didn't like the strawberry pink of the boy's lips, the young blonde decided to show him. With a swift gliding movement up Harry's body, drawing a moan from both, Draco had reclaimed Harry's hesitant lips, teeth drawing cherry blood once more from the swollen gather of tissue and muscle. With another swift glide of his body, Draco was once more between the Gryfindor's legs, Harry Jr. standing at full attention in eagerness. Without hesitation, Draco's index and thumb wrapped securely around the base before bringing the tip into his hot mouth, his previous breath upon the tip cooling before the actual enclosure scolded the raven-haired boy.

Harry's head pressed into the bed and his eyes closed, a moan, seemingly from his soul, exiting his clenching teeth and shaking the columns of his foundations. Draco answered with his own vibrating moan, the sound from the Gryfindor teasing his ears, leaving them a tingle. The tight heat plucked at the stings of Harry's physical and psychological sanity, his bliss so near through all sensation, the only tie holding his cock around the base. For he truly believed he would find salvation in the heavens if Draco would release him. He had not realized he had been speaking gibberish until his tongue, teeth and lips began to form actual words.

"Draco, please, gods, Merlin, whoever the bloody the bloody –fuck- is watching over this forsaken, beautiful world, please," he whimpered, begging so violently his thrashing arms and legs drew blood at his ankles and wrists. His plea did not go unanswered, though not in the way he had hoped. Draco's mouth stopped after licking at the base of the beautiful cock and curving over the tip to repeat the process in every angle he could once, twice then three times before pulling away, as if he did not want to stop. "No, no, no, don't stop," Harry groaned, hips rocking listlessly through the air in want. Through his whimpers, Harry could practically –hear- Draco licking his lips. Looking down, eyes narrowed in lust, Harry watched, fascinated through his returning flush as Draco licked at the hand certainly not occupied, his index finger and thumb still wrapped securely at the base of Harry's cock, the silver eyes closed in enjoyment. The long pale fingers withdrew from Draco's mouth, the same mouth that had once housed his still very eager cock, intense silver eyes opening to reveal the sharp contrast of dilated black against silver.

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_Well, that's it for now...I tried to revise it a bit for those of you that didn't like the beginning... shrug If you stilldon't like it, you could always just hit the back button...though I would like for you to -tell- me you don't like it...or you could just continue to see if it gets any better..._

_PLEASE REVIEW!_

_SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN!_


	2. Release and Tension

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter...duh

**A/N:** I was a bit surprised to get ten reviews for the first chapter. To some of you that may not be a lot...but to me it's a dream come true...for the first chapter anyway...

Well, here it is...i hope some of my old readers (as in have read may of my stories if not all of them) don't mind my character development as it is -extremely different- let's just say the Golden Boy is a bit obsessvie compussive...

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_Where we last left off..._

"No, no, no, don't stop," Harry groaned, hips rocking listlessly through the air in want. Through his whimpers, Harry could practically -hear- Draco licking his lips. Looking down, eyes narrowed in lust, Harry watched, fascinated through his returning flush as Draco licked at the hand certainly not occupied, his index finger and thumb still wrapped securely at the base of Harry's cock, the silver eyes closed in enjoyment. The long pale fingers withdrew from Draco's mouth, the same mouth that had once housed his still very eager cock, intense silver eyes opening to reveal the sharp contrast of dilated black against silver.

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Release and Tension

Harry's eyes widened to blink innocently down at Malfoy. Why was he doing this? Why didn't he stop the tempting blonde? A little voice smacked him with an invisible hand.

'Because it felt good! That's why."

Draco smirked seductively, his silver eyes narrowing deviously in mischievousness. The blonde's now wet hand traced the slight indent between Harry's balls, outlining the definition of each testicle before hearing a nice, sharp intake of breath from the Golden Boy. Without forewarning, the tip of Draco's long digit pressed at his opening, alerting him of his very open position before moving and wiggling inside of him. He yelped another yelp and groaned another groan as the foreign intrusion and stretch of his walls became sensuous. Another finger entered him all the while Draco watching, smirk growing with a third intrusion.

Harry's body convulsed when Draco's probing within him hit a bundle of nerves, which sent electricity shooting through his body, a pleasant hum trembling his thoughts.

"Don't stop," Harry groaned, attempting to tighten his leg muscles, legs pulling at their restraints in order to keep Draco's fingers within him. The blonde chuckled to himself, amazed in his own right at the boy's ability to arouse him with his mere thrashing about.

With an expertise beyond his years, Draco removed his fingers from the extremely tight enclosure and shook out his hand, positioning himself with a smirk to the narrow eyed, panting Gryfindor. The sight of the helpless Boy-Who-Lived was inexplicably arousing. The sheer empowerment of it all ghosting Draco's conscience followed by the precise thrust of his hips, successfully stretching the Gryfindor while hitting the prostate head on, the tight heat engulfing his being as for, the first time in his life, his pale skin blushed a heated pink at the sheer tightness.

Harry groaned loudly, the sound echoing their enclosure, the room becoming unbelievably small around the two. Draco's hips seemed to move of their own accord, rocking back and forth unconsciously. Draco charitably, in his opinion, allowing the Gryfindor to adjust. A long silence followed their initial groans at being filled and filling.

Draco took the opportunity to look down at the raven-haired boy from his vantage point above him, and gasped, feeling his cock twitch in approval. Beneath him, eyes closed tightly, lips plump red between clinching teeth, face flushed, back arched, and slightly trembling lay The-Boy-Who-Lived. A foggy haze of pleasure coated his senses at the sight, silencing a cocky comment he had been about to make, feeling his cock twitch yet again, this time catching the little mews of pleasure issuing from the Golden Boy at Draco's continuous rocking of his hips. His haze clearing somewhat, the Slytherin made a definite draw back of his hips, receiving a broken whimper from the Gryfindor.

"Shhhh," he had meant to purr, but his voice seemed to have become gruff in the infinite amount of groaning he had chosen to ignore coming from his own lips. Thrusting back in, he hit that particular nerve again, the Gryfindor moaning loudly under him in what sounded like a mix of pain and pleasure, the sound sending shock waves straight to his cock, his movement reverberating the same waves throughout his body as he groaned.

That was something else… As a Malfoy, he was not permitted to make -any- noise during sex and yet, he felt as though merely attempting to hold his tongue would have made his world collapse and yet…here his train of thought broke off.

Obviously, the Gryfindor had gotten tired of Draco's constant pausing, hips pressing into his own to rock the blonde upward before bucking down. Harry's face broke into a relieved half smile at the release of tension, or the continuing of its build. Draco felt the corner of his lip twitch in amusement at the look on Potter's face. Harry's lips were curved but his face was flushed, biting his lip in an odd way as he rocked his hips upward.

"D-Draco," the blonde hadn't even realized he released the base of Gryfindor's cock, pulling and squeezing in an upward motion, no longer concerned with leaving the Golden Boy wanting while he got off. His silver eyes hid behind his lids as he felt his eyes close in pleasure, a familiar but foreign build of climax building behind his navel, "I'm going to…" Harry's words were lost when Draco's teeth found his shoulder, biting into his flesh in a plea of silence, trying his best not to scream in rapture as Harry's walls tightened around him. A sticky substance coated his chest, causing a pleasant friction between their chests to bring him overboard in a wreathing mass of singing nerves.

'God Damn It!' he shouted mentally, body convulsing, tasting blood on his tongue, 'fuck…'

Relaxing his mouth after the most amazing orgasm of his life, Draco Malfoy's eyes rolled into the back of his head, pulling from deep inside the mewing Gryfindor to collapse beside him in exhaustion. The two lay beside one another, breaths going from a harsh pant to even out as they drifted to sleep.

'That was unreal,' the smaller of the two thought to him self, not noticing the disappearance of the rope at his ankles and wrists. He curled against Malfoy's side, a sated small smile on his face as his arms and legs relaxed finally.

'How surprising, Potter,' and the Malfoy heir drifted to sleep as well, curling a protective arm around the lightly snoring, raven-haired boy.

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Harry Potter awoke to a scratching noise. The sound seemed to echo throughout his conscious mind, present until his eyes opened. Groaning, he sat up, noting an aching in the small of his back from his somewhat odd position over what looked like three desks in a row. There, placed before him on the desk occupied by his upper body, was a miniature version of Malfoy and himself, the scratching noise coming from the way the little him scratched at the stone floor, a soundless cry of rapture coming from his mouth as Draco fucked him doggy style.

A furious blush colored the Gryfindor's cheeks as the events of the previous night flashed before his eyes when the little mini him flipped onto his back and was held by his arms above his head by the smirking Slytherin. The two little wizards disappeared with a pop when he looked away.

A small smile flittered across his lips and he beamed around the dark classroom, noting the small stream of light from the only window in the Potion's room at the effort it took to make those 'dirty' little things. The smile adorning his soft features fell somewhat when he realized he was, in fact, alone. The solitude of the room circled him, urging the Gryfindor to put more motion into his limbs in order to leave it behind.

Another groan passed his lips, feeling soreness in parts of his body he didn't know -could- get sore. With a shake of his messy raven hair, the Golden Boy, stepped down from the desks, only now noticing that he had all his clothing on and looked practically groomed.

Glancing at his watch, large, emerald eyes blinked dumbly behind his too large glasses, pushing the cool metal up on his nose to get a better look at the time. With a half surprised, half growl noise, the Gryfindor fled from the room, running full speed through the dungeon and up the dungeon steps towards the Entrance Hall.

Standing outside of the door to the Great Hall, Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself, as well as his raging blush at what the Slytherin may have spread throughout the school already, thankful for the half an hour or so he had before breakfast came to an end. He sighed deeply, what better time to hear the screams, see the fingers pointed and endure the whispers, then now.

Head held high, Potter pushed the doors open, entering as if he owned the world only to be met with his usual fan club and the suspicious eyes of his best mates. Feeling somewhat silly for having so little faith in the blonde Slytherin (_I wonder why_), Harry let his head drop in his usual shy manner before walking toward his seat and plopping down next to Ronald Wealsey, his best friend of six years, going on seven.

"Harry Potter, where have you been?" Before the red head could open his mouth, his second best friend, Hermoine Granger, shouted said words, slamming her book onto the table with amiable force, shaking the table in her wake.

Against his will, the Golden boy felt his cheeks color, mentally sighing as half the hall fell silent, all, except, of course, the Slytherin table, who seemed a bit more rowdy than usual. Shaking his head slightly in Hermoine's direction and giving the signal 'not now', Harry picked at his food, sparing only one glance at the Slytherin table.

And there he was. Carrying on with his friends as if he had not a care in the world, positively glowing with what looked like contentment to everyone else. But what Harry, being trained in reading people for the past three years, saw was happiness and an unmistakable giddy attitude, even toward eating his lightly powered French toast, even toward drinking his pumpkin juice with his little pinky in the air, even toward licking his lips with a soundless smack…

"Harry, mate, you al' right?" Ron's innocent question snapped the Gryfindor from his obsessive thoughts.

"Fine, Ron, fine," he didn't notice the eyebrows both of his friends had given him, but he -did- notice the base quality of his voice, not to mention the way he seemed to purr, his best friend's name, though not intentionally. He felt his voice hitch to distinguish whom he was speaking to, but he did not mean to actually -purr- Ron's name! That was just uncalled for! That was just…nasty! Especially when he had a much better looking, better tasting, better fucking blonde to himself…

Harry turned his head forcefully from the Slytherin table, determinedly tearing into a piece of toast, not caring that the crumbs smacked several people in the face or eye and definitely not caring that his simple response to his friend's question caused a few heads to turn and his already drooling fans to swoon. Chancing another look to the Slytherin table behind his slowly dying toast, Harry noted how -gay- Malfoy was. _I mean, come on,_ he thought to himself, _no one could be -that- gay and get away with it without even a comment to his homosexuality!_ _It was down right illegal, not to mention-_ at this thought he choked slightly on his toast- _it was down right -intriguing-_.

Catching his stare once more, Harry turned back to his toast only to find it completely gone, and finding himself licking the jam flavored toast from his covered fingers. He felt his face heat for the fourth time that day and removed his fingers from his mouth with a slight smack, taking in the silence of his table. He looked around himself only to see the stares of his fellow classmates and the raised eyebrow of both Hermoine and Ron. Glancing at the Slytherin table again, Harry met the silver gaze of his rival, a smirk set into the boy's beautiful face, an elegant eyebrow raised in inquiry.

_Because he couldn't just have his eyebrow raised in question_, Harry thought to himself, _no, he had to have it raised in 'inquiry' because a simple word like 'question' was beneath him…like I was_. Shaking his head, the Gryfindor rose from his seat and stomped moodily out of the Great Hall.

The blonde followed his movement with his eyes; if he didn't know any better he would have sworn the sexy little poof was on his period.

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Potions. It just had to be Potions. He just -had- to get on Snape's bad side with his presence on the first day of classes and Snape just -had- to pair him with Malfoy, Malfoy just -had- to look so good in the morning. Fixing his hair in the mirror behind the Golden Boy, Draco didn't even acknowledge his presence as if saying 'my hair is much more important than opening my mouth to say anything to the likes of someone like you'.

"What -are- you mumbling about, Potter?" Draco asked in his usual silky, alto voice that screamed 'I had sex last night and I fucked the shit out of some poor unsuspecting Gryfindor, oh wait, that was you, wasn't it? Ha, ha, ha!' "What about my voice, Potter?" Harry noted he would have to solve that whole grumbling to him self thing, it was not the best thing to do when you wanted to keep secret a sexual escapade in the dungeons, on these very desks with your worst enemy.

"Nothing, Malfoy, nothing," this time, there was no over powering noise to hide any of the purring going on in his voice, nothing to hinder the other students from hearing the purred name, nothing to stop some of the lusty looks he received, nor to stop the blonde beside him from hearing loud and clear.

Draco watched, eyes glinting somewhat as Potter's blush spread across the planes of his tanned face and traveled down to his neck, eager to see, yet again, where the blush spread throughout his entire body, a twitch in his tailored pants signifying his body's gratitude of his purred sir name. "What are we supposed to be doing?" The blonde also noted, with a quirk of his eyebrow, that the Golden Boy's voice had dropped an octave or so from the previous night.

"If you had been paying attention, though I doubt that that is possible considering your Muggle condition of ADD, you would have noticed the notes on the board stating what we are supposed to do presently," Malfoy's elegant statement was said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he elegantly scrawled the notes in what looked like a bigger, cleaner, less-evil purple version of Tom Riddle's journal. Yeah, Malfoy was -really- gay.

The blonde tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, causing the room to become a bit warm for the Golden Boy as he loosened his Gryfindor tie and ruffled his hair. Turning somewhat in his chair he didn't notice the blonde's hungry eyes as he bent slightly to retrieve his Wizarding Notebook, which looked oddly enough like a Muggle notebook.

Harry shrugged, trying to empty his mind. If Malfoy could act so cool, collect, and gay, so could he…wait, he didn't mean to think that, he didn't want to be gay, not that gay was a bad thing. He had a lot of gay friends, like Cho and Dean and Seamus and…now he was just rambling.

"Potter, as much as I'd like to know that you have gay friends like Chang and the two wives, I would like to actually start our Potion sometime this period," with that, the blonde got up in a huff, his good mood falling all of a sudden with all that sexual tension between himself and his rival. Grabbing the ingredients some little Gryfindor without a name was getting, Draco decided he would just toss the Gryfindor against a wall and ravish him before his next class, Transfiguration.

After all, Draco was not one to lust after another being unrequited; he was not some sort of Potter fan. Because he had already fucked Potter he didn't have some unspeakable urge he had to fulfill. He was also not one to lie to himself, he thought shifting in his suddenly tight pants. He -elegantly- plopped in the seat beside the Gryfindor. "Just so you know, Potter," he drawled, setting up their work area, "I'm going to toss you against a wall after Potions and have my way with you."

The Gryfindor choked on his tongue, large eyes staring innocently, bottom lip trembling in disbelief at the casual Slytherin. Malfoy spared him a smirk before completely ignoring him, leaving Potter to take the notes out of the book as he did the potion himself.

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I hoped the lot of you liked it and i would appreciate a review **hint hint **

**SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN IF IT IS NOT CLEAR IN ANY OF MY OTHER STORIES I WANT TO MAKE SURE IT IS -CLEAR- HERE, IF THEY WERE ANY MORE OPEN THEY'D BE HARRY AFTER DRACO JUST FUCKED HIM!**


	3. Flirting and Tension

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Harry Potter and would be most grateful to all of the those who want to sue me if they would just....fuck off.**

**A/N:** Hello to all of you. I was quite pleased with the number of recieved reviews, but i don't think there was anything in there that required an answering such as questions and the like so i won't give any 'shout outs'.

This chapter is a bit unfinished but i decided to upload it anyway, however, i will attempt to upload the other part of this chapter soon...

Thanks for all your support guys!!!

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_Where we last left off..._

After all, Draco was not one to lust after another being unrequited; he was not some sort of Potter fan. Because he had already fucked Potter he didn't have some unspeakable urge he had to fulfill. He was also not one to lie to himself, he thought shifting in his suddenly tight pants. He -elegantly- plopped in the seat beside the Gryfindor. "Just so you know, Potter," he drawled, setting up their work area, "I'm going to toss you against a wall after Potions and have my way with you."

The Gryfindor choked on his tongue, large eyes staring innocently, bottom lip trembling in disbelief at the casual Slytherin. Malfoy spared him a smirk before completely ignoring him, leaving Potter to take the notes out of the book as he did the potion himself.

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**Flirting and Tension**

The Gryfindor nervously did as he was told, or not told, his hand trembling somewhat as he scrawled messily over his parchment-notes, his lettering bending in ways it hadn't before as he faintly noted he'd have to rewrite the notes eventually. Taking a nervous glance around to see if anyone had noticed their exchange of, he cleared his throat, words, he noticed other groups had taken to Malfoy's idea.

The most excelled of the pairs working on the potion themselves and the other copying the never ending notes from the board as quickly as possible before they disappeared to be replaced by even more notes. Noticing this very fact, Harry raced to copy them down before they disappeared again, settling for his usual method of getting things done: pushing whatever worried him to the back of his mind.

This, however, was easier said than done. The blonde would lean unnecessarily close to Harry to look over his shoulder at notes he could easily read in legible print from the board. Or he would brush his hand along Harry's when reaching for an ingredient only to replace it because 'it wasn't needed' or 'it was not time to put in it yet'. Then there were the not that subtle brushes along the nape of his neck or inside his slightly open cloak and for once, Harry was glad that the dungeons only provided enough light to brew a potion.

As the period neared an end, the Golden Boy felt his head swimming in arousal, his erection straining painfully against the fabric of his pants. At exactly five minutes to the bell he was still copying notes as Malfoy leaned back in his chair gazing predatorily at him.

"You know…" the blonde drawled silkily, and Harry glanced at him momentarily, his hand still moving quickly across his parchment, wishing he had not after witnessing the index finger running thoughtfully, albeit seductively, across the blonde's bottom lip, "you look delectable in those clothes, the robe leaves a lot to the imagination, though." Harry felt his entire being flush, even down to his nervously tapping foot, furiously concentrating of taking the last of the notes down, completely ignoring the blonde sex god beside him.

'…Therefore the potion is used to bend distance, much like a portkey in it's more potent form, however, the form the student will be brewing is used in the training of Apparition.' Harry breathed a long sigh as he dotted his sentence with a flourish of his aching hand, leaning back in his chair. He ruffled his hair a bit, unconsciously causing his counterpart to stiffen somewhat beside him at the appealing sight, the former mentioned youth taking no notice. Allowing his body the few minutes before the bell rang to relax somewhat, bringing to his attention his very stiff prick and the sudden body heat of his rival beside him. Glancing to the clock and thanking whatever god there was for the two minutes before the bell (one kept track of time better when one was attending one's most hated class). He turned to Draco, a lump forming in his throat as soon as hungry silver met nervous green.

"Why did you tell me that, Malfoy?" the blonde seemed to take extreme pleasure in hearing his sire name on Harry's lips like he had toward the beginning of the lesson and Harry pushed down his blush best he could. He didn't notice Malfoy's small pout at the limits of the blush, the light dusting of the Gryfindor's cheek not as satisfying as the full body flush but equally endearing. "Why would you tell me something like that? Is it to distract me from Potions or something? Trust me, I don't need your help there."

Now Potter was rambling, Draco sighed to himself. The Gryfindor was much cuter when he remained as silent as possible, unless he was moaning of course. "And why were you in Snape's classroom to -being- with? And what makes you think you have free reign over me just because of that HUGE mistake? Not to mention you sitting there looking all fuckable," here Draco raised an eyebrow, hearing the Golden Boy curse like that was so odd, so…dirty, he felt his cock twitch yet again in what he mentally began calling the Potter twitch. He took it back; he liked this dirty mouth Potter, "with your eyes all narrowed slightly. And why are you smirking at me like that?"

Just as the Gryfindor brought his persona back to the present in regards to person-to-person conversation and not just one with himself, the bell rang. Harry's entire countenance seemed to fall with that noise, looking sullen for a moment before hurriedly gathering his things in hopes of avoiding said ravishing against some wall not preordained.

Draco's smirk twitched somewhat, the muscles of his face threatening to stretch into a smile at Harry's poor attempt in escape. He sighed somewhat, watching as Harry placed his last book in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, Potter never learns. Draco casually knocked what remained of their potion to the floor.

"Potter!" Snape's booming voice could be heard over the quickly scurrying children, "you will not leave this classroom until this mess is cleaned," his deadly whisper voice was legendary and Draco tossed a winning smile in his godfather's direction. He would almost go as far as to say he loved the man, that is, of course, if he hadn't been a Malfoy and had the word love in his vocabulary not dealing with cruel punishment or punishment in general.

Harry nodded, glancing shortly at the arrogantly smirking blond and almost smiling when witnessing the blonde's usual character toward him. At least -some- normalcy was there, and he had to admit, he could always count on dear Snape if he needed something to be normal in his life. He sighed to himself, dropping to his knees after conjuring a rag, some gloves and a bucket, already knowing the task would have to be done manually.

The class quickly emptied, even Snape leaving him and for a moment, Harry relaxed completely in his solitude, having a few moments to think over the previous night and his development with Malfoy. He felt his entire body flush as a particular movement of his body while cleaning jutted his still erect cock, reminding him he'd have to take care of that later on.

"Judging by the look on your face, Potter, I'd say you were reliving some memories," Draco Malfoy's voice broke Harry from his thoughts, the raven head snapping up to look, wide-eyed, at the smirking Slytherin, "pleasant memories, maybe those from last night." Harry became flustered at the blonde's causal tone and began to scrub furiously at the floor, determined to keep his blush at bay.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Aren't you going to be late for your next class?" The Gryfindor muttered, jaw clenching and unclenching periodically as he scrubbed at the unrelenting substance on the floor.

"Thought I'd skip it, after all, you do look absolutely -ravishing- on your knees like that, even if your arms aren't tied to a random object," he purred, satisfied when Potter, frustrated, tossed aside the rag and huffed back on his haunches, glaring heatedly at the blonde for a moment before he stood his full height. Draco's smirk widened and his eyes lidded a bit more when he was reminded of their height difference, chuckling softly as Potter glared the entire five inches up at him.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" was the blonde making fun of him? Poking fun at whatever intimacy the two had shared the previous night? The Gryfindor was sharply reminded, at these thoughts, why he hated the blonde bastard. The blonde's smirk wavered slightly as if reading his thoughts.

"Just that I like to keep my word as often as possible," the blonde stepped to him somewhat. Harry tilted his head in confusion, his anger momentarily forgotten as he stared up at the blonde. "I did say I was going to toss you against a wall and ravish you, did I not?" Before Harry could properly ground himself in his indignity, he was backed into a wall, his head hitting it hard as he stumbled to regain his balance. Strong arms were placed on either side of his head.

Draco relished in the Gryfindor's shocked look before bending his arms and swooping in, claiming Harry's lips (…Potter's lips?) in a kiss that would have caused his father to pass out. Shaking his head slightly at the visual, he forced his tongue into Potter's not resisting lips, holding back a moan when Harry responded. And by the Gods did he respond!

The night before had confirmed the Slytherin's ideas about his innocence and yet, having Potter's tongue lap at his own, swirl along his teeth and tickle the roof of his mouth, he had to question it yet again. He recognized his own technique mirrored when Potter sucked his tongue between his teeth but not the part where Potter's hands fisted in his robe, and his tongue played with the tip of his own. It seemed the Golden Boy was a fast learner, indeed.

Draco dropped his arms from either side of the Gryfindor's head in favor of pressing their bodies closer together, fisting his hand in Potter's robes. He never was one to beat around the bush. He chuckled against Potter's lips at his own pun.

------------------------------

**SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN!!**

**AND**, because i'm a bit of a pervert, **ARE THERE ANY 'POSITIONS' ANY OF YOU WOULD LIKE THE PAIR IN...?**I also am leaving suggestions open for new pairs...perferably odd ones but not too odd (Example: Dumbledore and McGonigall is possible but nasty and i refuse to right hentai regarding anyone over the age of fifty, hince why i will not write Dumbledork or McGoogles.)

**PLEASE REVIEW!!**


	4. Touching Tension

Disclaimer: Fuck off…

A/N: I pulled this out of my ass so I hope the lot of you are happy…maybe I should have used a better terminology, one not so crude…

Here we go…

-

Where we last left off…

Draco relished in the Gryfindor's shocked look before bending his arms and swooping in, claiming Harry's lips (…Potter's lips?) in a kiss that would have caused his father to pass out. Shaking his head slightly at the visual, he forced his tongue into Potter's not resisting lips, holding back a moan when Harry responded. And by the Gods did he respond!

The night before had confirmed the Slytherin's ideas about his innocence and yet, having Potter's tongue lap at his own, swirl along his teeth and tickle the roof of his mouth, he had to question it yet again. He recognized his own technique mirrored when Potter sucked his tongue between his teeth but not the part where Potter's hands fisted in his robe, and his tongue played with the tip of his own. It seemed the Golden Boy was a fast learner, indeed.

Draco dropped his arms from either side of the Gryfindor's head in favor of pressing their bodies closer together, fisting his hand in Potter's robes. He never was one to beat around the bush.

-

Touching Tension

He smirked at his own mental pun as he quickly undid the Gryfindor's belt and thrust his hands inside the transfigured trousers.

"Remind me to transfigure your robes more often," Draco mumbled against the panting Gryfindor's lips, the raven head's eyes closed in pleasure as Draco fingered his semi erect cock.

Harry's hands pulled and tugged at the Slytherin's robe, succeeding in finally ridding the blonde of the unrelenting clothing before Harry's hands fisted in the light material of Draco's under shirt, his vest still in his book bag for a more formal meeting than attending Potion's class.

Draco let out a surprised groan when the Gryfindor cupped his arse cheeks and squeezed, sending a pleasant hum throughout his being even if his hand became squashed between the two of them when Potter pushed at his ass in order to rub their bodies together. Deciding he rather liked hearing Potter moan and groan and that he rather liked having two adequately functioning hands, the blonde slipped his hand from between them and cupped Harry's ass, rubbing their erections together.

He watched as Harry eyes rolled slightly into the back of his head at the contact, his lips parting slightly in invite. Draco couldn't help himself as he claimed those lips once more and, for a moment, he entertained the thought of there being something mentally, Harry rubbed their cocks together again, sending a shock of singing nerves through his person, and physically, wrong with him.

Their tongues danced against one another in a fierce, never-ending battle of licks and suckles; he could do this all day. No really, Draco thought to himself as Potter decided he was not satisfied with merely clenching Malfoy's buttocks, he could really do this all day.

He chuckled against Draco's lips, trailing a hand between them to undo Draco's belt, the fabric sliding easily down the blonde's pale thighs. He couldn't believe he thought the Slytherin's ass in reference to buttocks, never mind his surprise at being able to think at all.

"And what, pray tell, would you be laughing at, Potter?" Draco asked into Harry's neck, nibbling and biting with every encouraging moan from the raven-haired boy. Harry shook his head, furrowing his brow when the blonde went to pull away and opening his eyes at the lack of movement from his taller counterpart.

"Nothing, I was just thinking of something stupid," Harry whispered hotly against Malfoy's lips, trailing kisses to the blonde's neck. The Gryfindor felt the body against his tense momentarily before Draco let out an inhuman groan, pressing the Golden Boy harder into a the stone of the wall and craning his neck to the side to give Harry better access.

Now-this- he could –definitely- do all day. His body seemed to be on fire, much like he had been last night as he worked with a lesser elegance to rid the both of them of their clothing, slightly upset that he could only do wandless magic when it was that particular time of the month.

"And what," he stated breathlessly, avoiding Potter's lips to look at him imploringly so as not to cum in his pants at the mere kissing, biting and nibbling of his neck, "were you thinking about?" His voice muffled slightly at his last word, his shirt pulled over his head by the impatient Gryfindor, putting the respond on hold as he did the same to Potter.

"You wouldn't find it funny," the Gryfindor's dismissive, deep voice would have shut up someone beneath him but Draco was in Slytherin for a reason. The blonde shed the last of the clothing between them when he removed his socks, the entire process of removing their clothing somewhat drawn out because the Ice Prince did not wish to move back enough to allow enough room.

"Try me, Golden Boy," Draco purred, dropping to his knees atop the pile of shed clothing underneath him. Harry's emerald orbs enlarged considerably as he blinked owlishly at the kneeling Slytherin.

"W-What are you doing?" the stutter followed Draco's low chuckle.

"What do you think I'm doing? My nails?" Draco smirked, eyes locked to the Gryfindor's as he leaned in slightly, taking the tip of Harry's erection into his mouth with practiced ease. Sliding his tongue against the slit, Malfoy sat back, a self-satisfied smirk curving his lips, sitting back on his heels. "Now, what were you thinking? To tell you the truth," here Draco lifted onto his knees once more, bringing his head level with Harry's abdomen as he laid a neat kiss to the Gryfindor's belly button, "I'm surprised you –can- think in a situation such as this. I must commend you."

Draco's long tongue slid roughly upward from the beginning of Harry's pubic hairs to his belly button, the Gryfindor's body flushing at the look in Draco's eyes, the silver orbs preaching exactly what the blonde knew he was doing to him. Draco hummed to himself as he slid the head of Harry's cock into his mouth, looking challengingly up at the twitching, shuddering, groaning, moaning, panting Gryfindor, daring him to thrust.

Draco chuckled; he didn't know a person could do all those things at once, the vibration hoaxing the Gryfindor even more so. With a whimper, Harry grabbed two fists of the blonde's hair and berried his cock into the tight orifice, screaming his release in only two thrusts of his hips with a pleading groan from somewhere inside his chest. The only thing holding him up were Draco's arms and with a grunt the Gryfindor removed Draco's arms from around his waist when the blonde finally let go of his cock with a satisfied smack, collapsing before the still kneeling Slytherin.

"You taste good, Potter," Draco drawled, smirking teasingly at the still panting Gryfindor. The raven-haired boy leaned forward quickly, crushing Draco's lips to his own with a hand in the blonde locks before his hungrily lips trailed to Draco's spot and his hand found Draco's still very erect 'magic wand'.

-

I hope the lot of you liked it. I know I had some mistakes in here but I prompt you to review and tell me what you think. In the next chapter your suggestions will be used if that gives you a bit of a hint of what is to come.

SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN! DAMNIT!

REVIEW YOU SEXy BASTARDS!


	5. Shocking Tension

Disclaimer_: I don't fucking own it you cunt sucking mother and father fuckers…But really, no, Draco, Harry and wonderful world of Harry Potter (As well as Draco Malfoy smirk)belong not to me…but if they did….oh the possibilities…_

**A/N**: _Sorry it took so long. I'm delighted so many people liked this fic, it's going to wind down a bit but every now and again I'll make sure to wind it back up. I hope all of you enjoy what is to come (winking cum)and if you didn't know before, I've made this a crossover._

_To all of my reviewers, I love you crazy bastards! I'm surprised, still, that I don't have any flames, it's odd…maybe the lot of you that want to flame are too mesmerized by my talent…damn I'm cocky. (Damn my puns!)Oh, note that this chapter -is- long as hell, to make up for the other chapter which was short as hell, though this one doesn't have much porny goodness in it._

_Neway, here we go…_

* * *

_Where we last left off…_

Draco chuckled; he didn't know a person could do all those things at once, the vibration hoaxing the Gryfindor even more so. With a whimper, Harry grabbed two fists of the blonde's hair and berried his cock into the tight orifice, screaming his release in only two thrusts of his hips with a pleading groan from somewhere inside his chest. The only thing holding him up were Draco's arms and with a grunt the Gryfindor removed Draco's arms from around his waist when the blonde finally let go of his cock with a satisfied smack, collapsing before the still kneeling Slytherin.

"You taste good, Potter," Draco drawled, smirking teasingly at the still panting Gryfindor. The raven-haired boy leaned forward quickly, crushing Draco's lips to his own with a hand in the blonde locks before his hungrily lips trailed to Draco's spot and his hand found Draco's still very erect 'magic wand'.

* * *

**Shocking Tension**

He sucked and licked mercilessly, not letting up in the slightest as he gripped the pulsating flesh between his fingers. The long seeker catching hand barely wrapping around the shaft and touching only slightly at the tips. The Gryfindor took a moment to register the fact that his hand didn't wind around the Slytherin's cock as easily as it had his own, glancing down at the length for the first time.

Harry's grip faltered at the sight, his hand pausing in shock as his mouth dropped open in a very unappealing, in his opinion at least, gape at the Slytherin's thick slice of meat.

"How the hell did –that- fit in me?" the words spilled from his mouth like just about everything and he heard the blonde let out a breathy chuckle in something akin to relief.

"As much as I would love to answer your dirty little sex aid questions, Potter," Draco drawled sexily, clutching at Harry's shoulders in attempt to steady his spinning head. He was thankful for the chance to gather his wits about him but part of him didn't think Harry stopping was anything worth his relief. So, being the quick thinker that he was, and he praised himself in his head for overcoming this difficult decision, he went with the latter. "I would be -eternally- grateful if you would continue your ravishing of my neck and the fabulous hand job you were just executing." The words spilled from lips with little thought, not processing what the meaning behind his words would entail.

Harry allowed his big eyes the travel up Malfoy's form to steadying on his face. Harry's fingers tightened almost instinctively around the cock in his hand, taking in Draco's flushed cheeks and put out look at Harry's pause. His green eyes took a somewhat mischievous glint, and Draco, being the over observer, took notice of the distinct change in the Gryfindor as Harry's lips slipped into a slow, and, to his pleasant surprise, seductive smirk.

"What, Draco, don't you want me to appreciate your assets," here the Gryfindor emphasized, "like a good little Ravenclaw, worship the ground you walk on like a Hufflepuff, bravely ravish you like a Gryfindor?" His voice dropped an octave even lower than that of his previously altered voice, his lips resting on Draco's sensitive spot just above his collar bone, kissing and licking. His grip tightened considerably in confidence with Draco's encouraging hiss. "Let you fuck me like a bad little Slytherin?"

The blonde lost it, strong hands leaving bruises in his shoulders as the Slytherin came all over his hand, his seed squirting wetly on his chest. Harry, mouth dropped in awe, was speechless. Draco Malfoy was absolutely, entirely, fucking hot when he came. It was like watching the most beautiful person in the world come. Fuck, at the moment, Harry couldn't think of any one more beautiful than Draco Malfoy. And, at this thought Harry slightly freaked himself out, he would gladly give anything just to see that again.

"Damnnnn, Dracooo Mallffooyy," he hissed, not even realizing he was speaking Parseltongue until Draco Malfoy's burning, slightly glassy silver gaze met his own. Draco's body had stopped trembling with his orgasm completely; the thick flesh, still in his hand, hardening from it's recently spent stamina. It seemed teenage hormones were not lost in the least bit when it came to Draco Malfoy, if not amplified in light of Draco Malfoy's immediate recovery.

Harry's eye twitched slightly when he realized two things. One, he couldn't really say much in Draco Malfoy's case because his own prick stood between his kneeling legs, completely at attention as if saluting some type of major in the army. And two, he could not think of Draco Malfoy's name without thinking the whole thing. Not even the –Draco- (Malfoy) could be distinguished. He snapped himself from his thoughts when he realized Draco Malfoy's eyes had yet to turn from him, silver gaze still staring into his own uneasy ones.

For a moment he thought he had done something wrong and he waited patiently, albeit warily, for the blonde to shout obscenities at him for "manhandling his sexy little Draco Malfoy". Harry couldn't help but grin at the name he had given Draco Malfoy's happy stick, even though his grin was directing in the face of the owner of "sexy little Draco Malfoy". But never mind that.

"What are you grinning at, Potter?" Draco Malfoy asked him lowly in what could have been a groan if it was not Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Control who managed to turn the recently released Harry Potter on when he came with half lidded eyes, bursting silver flames for eyes and perfectly parted lips framed by slightly flushed cheeks. But he was, therefore, it could not have been a groan.

"Nothing." He tried to cover his grin with a seductive smirk like Draco Malfoy but did not succeed when the cock in his grip twitch appreciative at Harry's voice. Draco Malfoy's hand slowly removed Harry's hand from it's quite comfortable place around Draco Malfoy's cock and he pouted, pushing other thoughts away as they both sat back on their heels.

"Nothing?" Draco (Malfoy) smirked, standing after a moment. "I'll note that." With his usual (Draco) Malfoy smirk of sexy wickedness, the blonde yanked his robe from under Harry, causing the Gryfindor to land on his back, elbows propping him up and legs spread, knees lifted slightly.

The Slytherin raised an eyebrow at the position, brushing the thought that the pose was intentional from his mind along with the lustful, kinky thoughts that wanted to take advantage of Potter's current pose. His internal clock already said he was going to be a bit late for Transfiguration if he stayed and he could always fuck Potter later. Never mind the fact that the Gryfindor was given the opinion of choice by whoever created him. That didn't matter in a Malfoy's world and so, as the Malfoy heir, it didn't matter in his specifically. Speaking of such, he did not forget anything, the curse a generic gift from his father, his earlier statement about eternity coming to the forefront of his mind. He frowned slightly.

In the blink of an eye, literally to the still somewhat overloaded Gryfindor, Draco (Malfoy) was dressed and running a skilled hand through his hair to arrange the locks in a sexy hanging look that looked deliberately snogged compared to what he imagined his own hair looked like. The Slytherin sent him a smirk and left the room with a flourish, only pausing in his stride once.

"See you soon, Potter," he called seductively, the Potion's room door closing behind him with a soft click. Even the soft click of the door was sexy. And here Harry Potter sat, in the middle of the Potion's room. Little Harry Potter proud and hard and starting to throb in its need for immediate attention. Harry Potter was so fucking screwed. Little did he know that after (Draco) Malfoy's earlier comment, those words would take on a whole new meaning.

Needless to say when Harry entered Transfiguration twenty minutes late and stumbling with all the grace of a lanky teenager, he would undoubtedly be obtaining a detention, especially when McGonical was off having a 'meeting' with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape was watching the class.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, so nice of you to join us," Snape drawled as soon as Harry entered the room as if he had been expecting him, "why don't you take a seat?" The Gryfindor found it odd that he didn't immediately dock about fifty house points and give him a month's worth of detention immediately and found himself slightly disappointed that he didn't.

He took the seat next to some Ravenclaw girl with a blushing face and no name, slightly amused when he glanced over at Ron to see the red head's pointed frown. He had told Ron he may have had a bit of a crush on the tall, menacing, stringent Potion's Master, last night had had planned on sharing this with his tall sexy Professor. After all, being exposed to Snape almost every night for the past three months was cause for anyone to gather a soft spot for the great prick.

Then again, he had not been in his dorm room last night and he –had- come to breakfast rather late as well as this class so he could understand his friend's worry. Even if Ron flat out disagreed with his attraction when he admitted, like a good friend, that he found the billowing robes and constant hassling a turn on.

"Potter?" Said Professor's pale face came into his line of vision when he came back from his thoughts. He felt his breath hitch slightly at onyx eyes as well as Snape's proximity though they were at least two feet apart, Snape's large, manly hands resting on his desk as he glared down at a blushing Harry.

"Yes, professor?" He whispered, refusing to hold Serverus' penetrating gaze for too long.

"I know it's hard for you to concentrate on anything anymore but would you kindly pay attention in my class?" Snape's sweetly sarcastic voice poured over his ears. Malfoy? Malfoy who? He wondered how he could have been attracted to that mere…boy in light of this masculine tower of menacing manliness before him.

"Yes, sir." His octave lower voice caused the professor to pause in his next snide remark. Then again, the raven-haired boy thought as Snape glided away, eyes peeking over the rim of his glasses at Snape's backside through his long lashes, Draco did have a better ass. Instead of long dark hair that caused his pale skin to stand out astoundingly, he opted silver blonde tresses, compliment of the Malfoy name, which complimented his pale complexion, giving the blonde a somewhat surreal look about him to match his Adonis body.

Harry shivered slightly at a particularly dirty little thought of Draco tied to the bed he had been tied to the night before, Snape shagging him senseless, pale skin sliding wetly against paler skin. At that thought his eyes traveled to the blonde's usual seat just in front in back of him, turning his head as discreetly as possible to find Draco smirking at him, an eyebrow raised. His mind put pieces together slowly, keeping in mind that he would have to actually ask the blonde git why he was tied to a bed in the middle of Snape's classroom. He should have known the blonde fuck would be watching him.

And of course, Potter was completely right. He had witnessed the entire exchange between his favorite professor and his favorite fuck buddy. He made a mental note to inquire about that after he fucked the Golden Boy nine ways until the next Friday, today being Wednesday. At the thought, Draco's still very eager cock twitched excitedly and he was torn between hating himself for making himself wait and loving himself for drawing the delicious agony out for the next hour or so.

He licked his lips, aware of Potter's eyes on his person and catching the slight shiver from the raven-haired boy from his peripheral vision. This, he concluded, would be well worth the wait.

The period had never been as long as it had to one Harry Potter. Snape had given them a lot of book work, some problems the only Potter child truly couldn't understand and every time he would ask the tall, pale Potion's Master, the Professor would helpfully assist. By leaning over him, breathing on his neck and running those long, pale fingers across the page the problem resided on, torturing the Golden Boy. And Draco was no better. After the book work was done, which Harry thanked the Gods for a chance to not ask Snape for something else before his Professor noticed something about Harry's odd shifting and sweaty palms, Snape had them doing some of the transfigurations they had went over in their books. Harry was paired with Draco.

The youngest Malfoy smirked softly at Harry, allowing silver orbs to run the length of the nervous body before him. Draco drank in every twitch or odd movement the Golden Boy made as he rose from his seat and walked awkwardly over to him. The Slytherin looked pointedly at Blaise, raising an eyebrow at the still sitting boy before the darker Slytherin of them both stood and walked toward his partner, Wealsey, with a scowl. Draco's smirk sharpened as the Gryfindor became closer, his soft smirk tuning into that of a predator, pulling the chair Blaise had been sitting in closer to his own until the seats touched.

"Hello, Potter," he growled when he could speak without raising his voice in the slightest from his sexy whisper and patting the wood of the seat welcomingly.

"Malfoy," Draco absolutely adored Potter's new vocal cords and almost pouted when the Boy Who Lived glared at him and removed the seat from his grasp, scooting it a good foot or two from Draco. Harry plopped into his seat and ran a tired hand through his hair, trying his best not to make any sudden movements that would cause the problem between his legs to increase. Trying to ignore the blonde by his side, Harry set up the pot and pen they would need to transfigure into rodents, his eye twitching somewhat as he ignored Snape's swagger toward the two of them.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," the tall professor nodded, arms crossed 'menacingly' over his chest as he glanced at Harry and made eye contact with his favorite pupil. The look shared between the two of them, allowed Harry a few seconds of confusion in escape from his hormone-induced trance. That was not a look one shared with their student or professor. "I trust the two of you will find amble time in your busy schedules to actually complete your assignment instead of attacking one another at knuckle and tooth," he drawled, Harry shivered. Draco caught the action through his peripheral vision.

The Gryfindor watched longingly as Snape bellowed away, robes smacking some random students in the face. Harry was pulled from his admiration by a soft chuckle to his left. He frowned and looked to Draco.

"What?" It seemed the Golden Boy wanted to speak as little as possible, maybe he -had- noticed Malfoy's reaction to his deep alto voice.

"Oh come on, Potter," Draco chuckled, leaning unnecessarily close to the Gryfindor, motioning with a finger for him to come closer. Harry blinked innocently at the Slytherin and leaned in until his ear was aligned with Malfoy's lips. "It's obvious you fancy Snape, got a thing for cauldrons and tight black robes?" he whispered breathily and Harry felt his face heat up before he could stop it. The blush spread evenly across his cheeks before traveling the length of his jaw and down his neck.

Draco's tongue slithered out of his mouth and licked a wet travel over the hallow of Harry's ear, moving back after hearing the satisfying sound of the Gryfindor's shocked gasp.

"How did you," Harry tripped over his words, attempting to grasp himself in his embarrassment, shock and arousal, "what gives you that idea, Malfoy?" He produced a half ass sneer and tamed his blush the best he could. The Gryfindor was such a little whore when he acted all innocent and embarrassed.

"I can't blame you, Potter," he smirked, leaning back in his seat and opening his legs wide, allowing any on lookers full few of his hard, pants clad prick. "That tall, muscles, pale, evil professor look gets me every time, then again I don't mind the short muscled tan, school boy look either…" Harry refused to blush, striving, instead, to ignore the blonde git at his side. A light flicked on in Harry's head and his head snapped to the side, eyes boring intensely into Draco's flashing silver orbs. "I wondered when you'd put the pieces together, Potter," he chuckled and not a moment later the bell rang.

The Slytherin waved his wand with a flick over both the pen and pot on his side of the large desk, a rabbit and a rat appearing in place of the Muggle objects. He smirked at Potter and tossed his bag over his shoulder, standing with a fluid motion and in a few glides Harry was left staring after him.

Lunch found Harry Potter in the library, flipping through page after page of Wizarding Law, stacks of similar books spread open in front of him as he frantically searched through the one before him, hand jotting down notes studiously in his opened Wiz-Book. This is how Hermoine Granger found her best friend. She shuffled over to the two-person worktable, placing the tomes she had collected onto the table in front of her with a loud 'thump', and still, the younger Gryfindor did not look up. She glanced down at one of the open books, "Statutory Rape: Professors and their students."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, shaking her head at her wild haired friend. Harry looked up from his book and blinked for a moment before realization sank in and he smiled softly at the bushy haired girl.

"Hey, Hermoine."

"Harry, I don't think it's very wise for you to act on your feelings for Snape, especially with NEWTs so close," she cooed, sitting across from him and patting the hand resting on the book before him gently. Harry blinked again and tilted his head to the right in confusion.

"Wha-?" he glanced at the open books before looking into her sympathetic face and shaking his head hard. "No, no, no, I'm not doing this to get together with the git, Hermoine," Harry blushed.

"Speaking of which, where were you last night, young man," she sure did a good impression of Mrs. Wealsey. Harry cringed at the thought of telling Hermoine what he was doing last night instead of the lie that was already flowing from his lips.

"Oh, I kinda was almost caught by Finch and when I ducked into a storage closet I guess I fell asleep," he laughed nervously. Hermoine miss took the laugh for embarrassment and shook her head at him, only Harry would do something like that and brush it off.

"You could have gotten hurt, Harry, or even worse, you could have gotten caught," she warned shaking a finger at him before picking up her books. "I'll tell Ron what happened to you. I don't think he's speaking to you right now cause he thinks you and Snape…well…you know," a light blush colored Hermoine's cheeks and she lugged her things away with a wave.

Harry sighed deeply, ruffling his hair and placing down his quill with shaking hands. He didn't have time for this, not with the war at full blast and the cancellation of all Hogsmeade visits. Something like this would only be offering himself to Voldemort on a silver platter; the evil wizard already knew his emotions were his weakness. And then there was Malfoy. Why wasn't the blonde git spreading his bare ass all over the school? Telling in detail how he fucked the Golden Boy until he came trembling and how he came back for more or even that he wanted their potions –professor- to fuck him, too.

Hell, Harry still wondered why the paper had yet to print anything about him. He could see the headlines now: "GRYFINDOR'S GOLDEN BOY AND SAVIOR OF THE WIZARDING WORLD AKA SLYTHERIN WANTON WHORE!" with a little picture of Snape and Malfoy smirking and mouthing enthusiastically 'he-likes-it'. Harry heaved another sigh and checked his Wizarding watch; he'd missed all of lunch, and his last class of the day. He might as well, he thought to himself; spend his free period before dinner thinking about his doom at the hand of an attractive blonde teenager. Then again, Malfoy had gotten his mind off of a lot of that, he'd gotten his mind off of all of it, actually.

Fuck, he couldn't even remember his own name when the blonde git fucked him. And that was all it was, he had to remind himself, he would not fall for the Slytherin like he'd fallen for Snape just because Draco was his first. He'd only fallen for Snape because of his tough love…not to mention those dark pools of mystery Snape passed for eyes and that tall lean body…

Harry shivered; what if old Voldie found out he had a crush on Snape, a spy for the Order? Or even worse, that he enjoyed being fucked and toyed with by Draco, son of his most loyal Death Eater? Yeah, he was so fucking screwed. He'd also never used the word fuck so much, it was such a dirty word, and he frowned at himself. Yeah, he hoped Voldemort didn't find out his secret attractions, or the dirty secret he shared with Draco Malfoy.

The Gryfindor was pulled from his thoughts by a sound off to his right, seemingly from the rows of ancient tomes. Harry looked around curiously for a moment. This section of the library remained isolated of anyone, save himself currently, and not even Hermoine traveled this far back, as this section was all old and updated Wizarding Laws.

"What a surprise to find you back here, Potter," the familiar drawl caused a rush of warmth to spread throughout his body and Harry quickly closed all the books before him, prior to looking up into the face of one of his tormentors only to find two standing in front of his table with identical smirks. He blinked largely.

"Mr. Potter, didn't the headmaster make it clear you are not safe to roam about on your own," Snape intoned, his deep voice causing a nice little shutter to erupt in the lower his body, his cock already haven stirred at Draco's voice alone.

"I'm not roaming, professor," he said flatly, attempting to hide his full body flush, placing his clammy hands on his lap. "I was merely finishing up some…research." His usual defiance stirred and he looked up challengingly into the face of the head of Slytherin, glancing defiantly at Malfoy's smirking face.

"Ah," Draco purred, grasping a book before Harry could stop him, "Legal Wizarding Age for Intercourse," he read, glancing up at Harry with an eyebrow before waving the book imploringly, "and what would you be researching, Potter?" Draco asked, his voice of mock kindness, a glint in silver orbs. Harry stood from his seat with a huff and grabbed his notebook, closing it with a snap and stuffing his bag with the schooling item along with his quill and self-closing ink, mumbling to himself.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor," he spat, eyes locked to the now bare table, the many tomes he had collected pressed to his chest save the one in Malfoy's hand. "Malfoy, I have to go check these books out."

"Not so fast, Potter, there -is- a reason we cornered you in here," Malfoy sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, the book firmly in his hand as he did so, just as Harry went to turn.

What? So, he could toss him over the table and he and Snape could have their wicked way with him. Harry shivered pleasantly.

"What are you mumbling about, Potter?" Snape questioned. Another point for Draco, the blonde git didn't question anything, he inquired. "What?"

"Nothing, professor, what did you want?" his impatience was clear in his shifting feet and wandering eyes.

"It has been brought to our attention that neither Mr. Malfoy nor yourself are safe and you are to be sent to the Muggle World America for a time being," Snape looked somewhat uncomfortable as he gestured to the table Harry had just cleared.

"You could have told me that before I picked up all my things," The Gryfindor mumbled dryly and Draco chuckled, pulling over another chair for himself as his favorite professor sat in the seat across from Harry. The Golden Boy put down his things with a series of thumps before flopping into the seat and looking at Snape expectantly. He had wondered previously when the 'Protection Service' would start. "And where in America where we be staying?" he asked, leaning back, face a blank mask he had perfected with the past two years of Occumency.

"Smallville, Kansas, United States. Mr. Malfoy will be staying with his distant relatives the Luthors and you, with your distant relatives, the Kents." Harry blinked.

"I have other relatives besides the Dursleys? And why the hell is Malfoy coming?" Harry felt his face flush in anger, confusion and embarrassment as his mind toyed with his last two words and ran over the briefing Snape had just given him.

"Yes, you do have other relatives, Mr. Potter and it is up to Mr. Malfoy whether he would like to disclose that bit of information to you…"

"What about school, NEWTs?" Harry interrupting feeling his anger building as the air within two inches of him became a few degrees warmer. "And Ron and Hermoine, I'm not leaving them," he hissed, leaning into the table to glare daggers at the unfazed Potion's Master and the still smirking Malfoy.

"Don't fret, Potter, I'm sure you'll fit right in with those Muggles," Draco chuckled and stood from his chair with a wink, gliding away with a nod to Snape, the book slipped into a pocket inside his robe.

"You have tonight and breakfast tomorrow, Potter, be ready by then." With that, the sneering black robed figure glided away. It seemed, Harry thought to himself as he leaned back dejectedly, he was more screwed then he thought. Life was just not fair for one Harry Potter. Yeah, he was so fucking screwed.

"Harry, mate, Hermoine and I waited for you at dinner, but-," Ron's cheery voice trailed off. His bright blue eyes clouded in confusion as they scanned his best friend's side of their shared, two person, seventh year dorms. Harry looked up from his trunk, placing the last of his over sized shirts into the endless cavern he had come to know as his little movable home. He sighed deeply.

"Hey, Ron," his voice, still an octave or so lower than the previous day held a sad twinge to its end, sitting back on his heels before his trunk to stare, unseeingly, at the many Wizarding pictures of himself and his friends.

"What's going on?" Ron, as usual, sounded angry about his confusion. Harry shook his head, lifting an arm to run a finger down the length of a picture of himself and the rest of the seventh year Gryfindors, all of them smiling hopefully at the picture, Ron sticking his tongue out at Hermoine and Harry.

"Dumbledore says it's not safe for me here," he wisely left out the part about Malfoy, "The Wizarding Protection service has decided I would be safer with relatives I didn't know existed and I'm to complete my schooling at a Muggle high school with Snape as my Wizarding teacher to prepare me for NEWTs." Harry tossed the folded parchment in Ron's general direction near the door behind him. He could almost feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise as his red headed friend's magic flared in anger.

Ron picked up the parchment and scanned its contents. It was just like Dumbledore to tell Harry he had other relatives a day before he would be living with them because he needed protection. The older Gryfindor vaguely wondered why Harry still followed the man so faithfully, even after he had been lied to and told he was all alone in the world save the Dursleys. Ron was certain only the thread of power the geezer had against Voldemort held his trust in the ancient wizard.

"Harry," Ron sighed, watching, helpless as Harry's shoulders shook on his slight frame, the back facing him clenching and unclenching in what the flame haired youth recognized as silent sobs.

"It's okay, Ron" the Gryfindor's voice trembled somewhat, sensing Ron moving closer to him, "I'm sure they are great people and… and I'll make new friends and find a new home and everything…" a bitter laugh broke harshly from Harry's lips, a small whine of a sob flittered through his clenched jaw. His hand rose from the picture, closing his trunk and hearing the magical click of his trunk seemed final somehow. Ron kneeled next to him, placing an awkward hand on his shoulder. He was definitely going to miss that: the awkwardness between Ron and him was a comfort he had learned to appreciate after three years of training and a lifetime of seclusion.

With one released cry, Ron found his arms full of a clutching, crying Boy-Who-Lived and a sad smile graced his freckled features, glimpsing at the turmoil Harry tried so hard to mask from even him.

"It'll be fine, Harry. I'll owl you everyday and-,"

"You won't be able to, it could be tracked," Harry mumbled into his best friend's neck, enjoying their proximity more than he would admit and not just from years of emotional withdrawal but also from the cold he felt when he had been with Malfoy, knowing that, at least in this situation, someone cared enough just to hold him.

"Then, I'll send it through Snape!" Ron's outburst prompted a chuckle. Harry grinned stupidly through his tears against Ron's freckled neck, feeling the red head rock him slowly in a comforting gesture, their awkwardness still present. "It'll be fine, 'Arry, you'll see."

"Yeah, Ron, yeah," and for the second time in two nights, the Gryfindor drifted to sleep in someone's arms.

"It'll be fine."

Breakfast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was quite the gloomy affair and it seemed only Draco Malfoy had escaped the melancholy the entire school populace had succumbed to. Draco picked his nails, bored out of his mind as he lazily watched the Golden Boy of Hogwarts being embraced by his many fans-or friends as the Gryfindor emphasized- even the teachers sharing a hug with the teary eyed Boy-Who-Lived.

The Slytherin licked his lips. Yes, the Gryfindor was especially delectable when he was upset. His face flushed and his eyes all big and puffy. Draco chuckled to himself. If only Snape were not riding the entire way with them on the train and to a 'secure location where they could Apparate'. He glared at his servants- or friends as they liked to put it- when they attempted to hug him or even share a sympathetic word, nodding regally at Zambini and scowling at Parkinson as she cried all over his best friend (servant). She really was a clinging whore. He smirked to himself, remembering fondly when Granger spelled those two words on her forehead in pimps. They still hadn't faded, by the way; yeah, life was good.

A glaring Potter whom had been calling his name for the past two minutes, appearing flustered and more than upset as he fumed before him pulled the Ice Prince from his thoughts. Yes, definitely delectable.

"Malfoy, I said it's time to go," Potter gritted out. Draco's eyes slid the expanse of his body, mentally complimenting the Gryfindor on selecting some Muggle clothes that actually matched, surprising compared to the way he dressed in Wizarding clothes. He sighed to himself at Potter's baggy blue jeans and equally baggy Gryfindor red shirt, now he, on the other hand, would not dress any poorer than the aristocrat he was.

Of course he knew he looked absolutely stunning in his fitted silver silk shirt and uniformly fitting black slacks, pressed to perfection, and accented by silver buckle black shoes, base pony-tail platinum blonde hair and stormy silvery gray eyes. His outfit completed by a cashmere trench that ended at his ankles much like a robe. What could he say? Being a wizard all one's life meant robe like wear would not be excluded from one's wardrobe so easily.

He gestured with a hand for Potter to lead the way, stepping from the entrance to allow the Golden Boy through, his smirk twitching a bit more as some of Potter's beloved friends swooned, batting eyelashes and giggling, waving at him as he graced the Great Hall with his gaze one final time.

* * *

I don't think that classifies as a cliffhanger but, hey, I tried. I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter as it was quite the break from the erotica you have been reading so far. Next chapter still to come now that you know what type of crossover this is, I hope I've left you in some resemblance of eager… You'll get to meet the Kents and Lex next chapter so I implore you to wait in eager chewing-your-finger-nails anticipation.

SUGGESTIONS ARE STILL OPEN (To those of you that have already put in suggestions, can you find yours? If you can't it is still to come, so don't worry, I haven't forgotten you)

PLEASE REVIEW YOU SEXY BASTARDS!

Until next time…

Ash


	6. Alienated, Balding Tension

_Disclaimer: I do not own the bloody piece of literature nor the bloody piece of movie so screw you, fucking sue-hungry...fuckers!_

_**A/N**:_ _Now that that's out of my system... thank you to all of you for your many reviews and I would like to point out to those of you that await the transition in which this story can be called a cross over at heart, it is in this chapter. I hope you enjoy this and please excuse the wait...However, to those of you that care you will be happy to know that with the addition of my new computer (Knock on wood), I will be updating much more often than usual._

_Well, I'm not going to put any special thanks or anything of the sort out there because I don't have the patience and if I want to awake early tomorrow, nor have I the time. Okay, people, here we go..._

_(Note: Sexual suggestions will be taken account in the chapter after this one. As this story is rater M/R and -not- NC17, it will be taken down a notch but to those that want full blown 'wizard sex' I would have to suggest another website or you can just email me... )_

_However, before we continue..._

_I'd like to point out the numbers between each section. _

_Example:_

_Wordswordswordswordswords_

_11111111111_

_Wordswordswordswordswords_

_2222222222222_

_This demonstrates time frames in which things take place so you do not get confused as you may while reading this chapter. Each number change shifted the time or the scene. A continuation, or repeating of the number extends the scene or takes place during the time that the number was taking place. For example, Harry may be doing something in a different place than Draco, when the scene shifts to Draco and it is at the same time, the scene number stays the same. I -am- nice but i will not hold your hand and go through each section with you to allow you to better understand the story as i am sure all of you are intellegent enough to do it yourselves. Think of it as a bit of an elementary challenge, as i am sure you'll go through it with ease, this is just a precation to help all of you understand my work to the best of your ability._

_If this has just confused you,ignoreit and read to your hearts content,interpreting ithowever you please..._

_Now...finally...here we go..._

* * *

_Where we last left off..._

He gestured with a hand for Potter to lead the way, stepping from the entrance to allow the Golden Boy through, his smirk twitching a bit more as some of Potter's beloved friends swooned, batting eyelashes and giggling, waving at him as he graced the Great Hall with his gaze one final time.

0000000000000

**Alienated, Balding Tension**

The entire trip was a complete waste of time to Draco. If only his godfather would have just met them there, he could have spent the entire five hours reacquainting himself with Potter's jean clad form, ripping that god awful piece of shit red shirt he sported into shreds. After all, the baggy clothing did utterly nothing for Potter's quite defined figure. Not to mention the Gryfindor kept shifting uneasily under his constant gaze, he would never tire of tormenting his fuck buddy. Yes, Draco licked his lips again, fuck.

Harry sighed the tenth time since the beginning of their trip. There had been three on the carriage ride to Hogsmeade, five on the train and two on their walk to the secure area, which just happened to be an old building resembling the Shrieking Shack remarkably. He sighed again.

"You know, Potter," Draco whispered to him, Snape a few paces a head as they entered the squeaking house, "if you don't watch it, I'll become accustomed to your sighing." Harry blushed, refusing to acknowledge the blonde's presence, placing another foot or so between them and almost running into Snape. His blush spread down to his jaw when his Potion's professor turned and glowered down at him before looking sharply to his favorite pupil.

"Draco, Potter," he said expectantly. Harry blinked for a moment in confusion, glancing at the blonde in question. Draco pulled Dumbledore's letter from his trench pocket, the parchment neatly folded in two halves, and raised an eyebrow at Harry. The Gryfindor blinked again before shrugging and producing his crumbled version of the letter.

The Slytherin held his out to the professor and Harry mimicked, their professor placed well-balanced hands on both at the same time. The Gryfindor felt the familiar tug behind his navel without the nausea, his feet meeting ground moments before he realized he was no longer 'in Kansas', or, in fact, that he was.

Harry surveyed his surroundings, Snape standing before him, Draco to his right, farm land behind him, barn to his left and large, homely looking house behind Snape, surrounded by a white fence, a smiling woman with deep red hair and a large smile standing on the porch of the yellow house. U, he thought, the type of 'u' you would use toward something craved enthusiastically, he hoped he was staying here.

"Serverus!" The woman jogged down the steps excitedly, coming closer to the three males just outside her gate. Snape turned with a jerk, eyes haven widened seconds before his sharp turn and Draco's attentive eyes filed the action in the back of his mind for later analysis.

"Evans?" Snape whispered, his pale face becoming even paler as he stared, open-mouthed at the woman before him. Harry felt his entire world focus on the woman, her features uncannily familiar.

"It's Kent, now, Sev, Martha Kent, if you must say my last name," her giggle made her seem even younger than what Harry assumed she was and Draco just -had- to ruin his classification of her overly familiar characteristics.

"A pleasure, Ms. Kent," Draco bowed somewhat, stepping up beside his godfather to open the gate and meet the slightly jogging woman a few feet from the gate's opening, "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he lightly grasped her outstretched hand, kissing the knuckles charmingly and flashing her a bright smile. Snape trailed in after Draco, Harry shyly behind him and standing a little to the side. Martha giggles again, rosy cheeks blushing a tad farther and Draco smirked to himself, releasing her hand after staring into her eyes for a bit.

"Well," she laughed, eyes boring into Draco's own just as intensely, which he praised her silently for, bowing his head in respect, "it is very nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy. And you must be," she glanced at Snape for approval, receiving a slight nod, "Mr. Potter?" Harry gazed up at her over the rim of his glasses from the ground, his cheeks blushing at the intense green eyes looking back at him. Now he knew where he'd seen those eyes! They looked at him everyday through his reflection.

"You look just like-,"

"You're mom," she interrupted, stepping to him, "I know." She stared up at him, her short height of about 5'4 leaving her at a disadvantage though he was no less intimidated then had he been staring into Snape's eyes. "I'm your Aunt Martha, Harry," she whispered and moments later he found himself in a bone crushing hug. He had an Aunt Martha? And damn she looked so much like his mom! And why did she have such an intense gaze? And why was his vision swimming?

"For God's sake, Martha, let the boy breathe," a man's voice interrupted the suffocating, but touching, moment. Said aunt released Harry and the Gryfindor took a few craved inhalations before switching his gaze to the porch once more. The somewhat large man bounded down the steps and trotted toward them in a truly manly walk, Harry didn't think anyone could walk more manly than that (which probably said a lot for his sexuality, he thought to himself), grabbing Snape's hand in what seemed an equally manly grip. "Jonathan Kent, nice to meet you, Professor," and his voice was masculine, too, all gruff American accent. Wow, Harry thought, that was a lot of man. "And welcome to our home."

From his position beside his godfather, Draco witnessed the tension of the potions master's shoulders and slight frown of his thin lips. Snape did not like Jonathan Kent that much was noticeable in just his professor's reaction to the firm grip the two exchanged momentarily.

"Draco Malfoy," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to the man after a moment. The farmer glanced at his hand wearily before grasping it firmly and Draco nearly scowled at the uncivilized grip, the sweaty, callous hand in his own making him ache for some sanitizer. He released the man's hand soon after. "A pleasure."

"I'm," Harry cleared his squeaky voice, the octave returning when he next spoke, "Harry Potter," he offered his hand and Jonathan shook it with favor, a wide, friendly smile gracing his features and he liked him instantly, almost as soon as he liked Aunt Martha. That sounded nice. AUNT Martha. Harry grinned stupidly, shaking back with as much fervor.

Draco cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but where is-," he was cut off by the sound of screeching tires, all heads turning to see a black Porsche skid to a halt in the Kent driveway, the hood of the car down in the autumn air. A bald young man stepped from the car gracefully, removing expensive looking glasses and placing them in the pocket of his black cashmere trench slowly, leaning casually against the car to survey them and placing pale hands in black fitted pants, his tight black shirt alluring.

"Well, well, well," the cool drawl resembled Malfoy's in an alarming fashion and Harry watched as Malfoy's lip curved into a smirk, "if it isn't little cousin, Draco."

"Alexander Luthor, you're looking bald, as usual," Draco drawled in return, gliding from the gate to stand before his cousin, arms crossed casually over his chest.

"And you're 'flaming', as usual," Lex chuckled. Harry felt himself flush at their tones, a tease to each word issued from both pairs of pale pink lips. Though the Luthor guy had no hair it seemed to add to whatever appeal the man had, sparkling blue eyes trailing to his to stare intensely. He didn't think so many people could have eyes like that. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" He tilted his head slightly as his eyes trailed back to Draco's and the blonde's smirk slipped into a barely noticeably smile, similar to that of the one Lex wore. It seemed this Luthor guy inquired as well.

"Oh," Martha seemed to jump back into action, "Lex, this is Professor Serverus Snape and my nephew Harry P…Evans, he'll be staying with us for a while," her slip up seemed graceful enough and Harry noted how out of place himself and the frowning Jonathan were among the intense gazes and inquiring individuals.

"Lex Luthor," he nodded and his body arched slightly from his car to standing, seemingly not pushing. "I would love to stay and chat Mister and Misses Kent but I have some pressing business to attend to. Say hello to Clark for me," with that the black clad, pale, bald man hopped in his car, Malfoy seconds behind in the passengers seat. The Slytherin winked at Harry a nanosecond before the car was off again, departing as fast as it had appeared.

Snape grumbled beside him and nodded to Aunt Martha, disappearing with a pop and leaving a dazed Harry alone with Martha and Jonathan Kent, his apparent uncle and aunt.

_111111111111111111_

The car ride to Luthor manor was eventful to say the least and dangerous to say the most. Draco, a small smirk of excitement on his pale lips, pushed at every button or upraised object he could reach, which included the stick drive.

"Draco, if you touch another object, I will have to put you in a straight jacket," Lex mused, one arm lazily at the steering wheel as he pushed ninety. Draco merely smirked and pushed the button of the horn on Lex's wheel thing. Lex took a moment to glare at his bubbly cousin.

"Watch out," Draco mumbled, eyes before them. Lex glanced to the road to see Clark standing in the middle of it looking upward. His car came to a screeching halt millimeters from a frozen Clark Kent. Tall, gangly, teenage, red t-shirt, ugly open home-made-jacket and tight jeans Clark Kent.

"Clark," the sigh seemed to snap the dazed boy from his shock and he smiled weakly at Lex before walking around the car to begin his apology. "Shouldn't you be at school?" Lex chuckled. Before he could open his mouth, however, Draco interrupted their little moment, after all, he was a Malfoy, he would –not- be ignored.

"Well, hello," the blonde purred in silk, silver eyes glinting predatorily at the tall raven haired boy next to Lex's side of the car, "Alexander, do introduce me to your handsome young friend," Draco Malfoy lived to tease just as his intonation suggested and he had a thing for youths with black hair and tanned skin. He really would have to catch up with Potter sometime today or tomorrow.

For the first time since Clark had known the Luthor heir, Lex rolled his eyes.

"This, Draco, is Clark Kent, son of Mr. and Ms. Kent, relative of that Evans boy you arrived with. And this, Clark, is my cousin, Draco Malfoy," Lex sighed, fingers tightening somewhat on the steering wheel as Clark leaned over him to shake his cousin's hand, the scent of his younger friend a silent turn-on as it had been for some time. Draco, of course, caught the response, filing it in his slowly filling 'later analysis file'.

"A pleasure." It seemed Draco's favorite phrase. Lex decided to break the moment before his vulture cousin decided Clark was sexy enough to fuck silly, noting to himself that he would have to ask how his cousin could be so utterly gay and not seem too flamboyant, while 'flaming', as they said in England.

"Well, Clark, we have some business to get to, stop by the manor later with your cousin and we'll hang out. Do you need a ride home?" Lex drawled, looking up at Clark with his famous half smile. Clark returned it, shaking his head in the negative before letting go of Draco's hand, extremely aware of the thumb that had been stroking his skin while their hands were connected, somewhat gob smacked. Draco winked at him and Lex sighed for the third time, speeding off with a wave and a 'see-you-later-Clark'.

_222222222222222_

Clark shook his head and continued his speed running home. His mom was going to kill him for being late and his dad would have a field day when he told him he had went to visit Lex only to almost get hit by him, yet again. Now he had to meet some cousin from England that showed up with Lex's cousin who seemed nice enough, if not a little -too- friendly. Not to mention it was odd that they showed up at the same time together. And Lex looked great in his all black outfit, as usual. By the time his thoughts came to a calmer trill of contemplation he'd arrived home.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home from the Talon," he called, closing the door behind him.

"It all started out like some porn horror movie with his suave strapping people to the bed and now it's some drama horror movie in which the hero moves to a farm town with nice people. The evil porn star moves with a rich playboy. The hero is ecstatic only to find out that the nice farm people housed some deep dark secret," Clark's ears honed in on the only noise in the house, running water backing the deep alto voice and Clark super ran to outside the bathroom door. "Hosting some alien that will kill us all! Muhahaha!"

Clark snickered silently, shaking his head at the voice behind the door and opening it with a deep breath. "And while the unsuspecting wizard washed, the alien," Harry heard the squeaking door and poked his head out of the shower curtain to see a blur of color, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He waved his hands in front of him, the shower curtain becoming tangled in his arms as he fell over. "Don't eat me! I taste like soap and day old pumpkin juice! Help! Help!" Harry screamed in his teenage squeaking voice.

"No," Clark tried, dodging a flying piece of soap.

"Help, an alien that speaks our language!" Harry exclaimed, "Help me!" the room trembled and Clark looked around in worry before he tossed a pair of glasses that had been resting on the sink at the shower curtain tangled boy. Harry grabbed the thing that hit him on the chest, all the while screaming bloody murder before realizing they were his glasses. He slipped them on his face with one hand still screaming and holding a sponge to protect him in the other had.

His scream was cut off immediately when his eyes focused and he could see Mrs. Kent's son in the doorway, wet from the splaying water and sporting a somewhat embarrassed grin. "Oh, um, hi, Clark, right?" Harry bushed crimson and Clark watched interestedly as the blood rush traveled throughout all of the tan body tangled in the fallen shower curtain. "I'm, um, Harry, from England, your, um, cousin," Harry felt his world tumbling in embarrassment as he attempting to detangle himself.

Clark chuckled and went to help the clumsy boy, careful not to tear the material in the process and freeing him.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you, Harry," he said nervously after Harry was fully clothed and sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. "Um, why did the room shake when you were screaming?" Harry looked up from his hands and gave him an odd look, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm a wizard," Clark wondered momentarily if the boy hit his head in his thrashing or perhaps he had been like that before the incident, which is why he was screaming in the first place.

"Right," he trailed and took a seat next to the small boy, placing a heavy hand on his delicate looking shoulder though he knew it to be muscled from the episode in the bathroom, "why don't you lay down?"

"How did you dodge my attack so fast?" Harry shot back, glaring at him.

"Reflex?"

"You're not suppose to answer a question with a question," Harry sighed, not sensing any magic from Clark but, also, none of the normal flux waves of a normal Muggle. "I'm a wizard and you aren't a regular Muggle, so spill." Clark seemed uncomfortable and Harry sighed again. "You've seen me starkers, I think all the embarrassment of this situation has been used on me," he prompted, large green eyes staring intently at Clark through his glasses.

"Muggle?" he tried to change the subject.

"Yes. A person with no magical abilities, and you aren't one of them, so what exactly are you, Clark Kent?" Harry stood and turned, standing before him at his height of five feet ten inches. Clark stood, averting his eyes as he did every time someone breeched an uncomfortable subject. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll show you," Harry sighed and waved his hand at Clark's open bedroom door. The wooden slab closed with a bang and Harry motioned with two fingers at the lock, the silver thing turning. Clark blinked and Harry smiled, giving himself a pat on the back in his head at wandless magic. "See, now it's your turn."

"Well," Kent blinked for a moment and shrugged after he ran over the options in his head before deciding, "remember when you screamed that stuff about aliens?" Harry blushed again and nodded. "Well, you weren't completely wrong."

"You mean you're going to eat me?" Harry asked drying and Clark grinned at him, shaking his head.

"I come from a planet called Krypton." With that sentence he splintered a secret it took ten years to tell his best friend and hid from Lana, Lex, and all his other close friends. And he just met Harry. Maybe he should have weighed his options a bit more. Harry blinked at him for a moment then shrugged and flopped down beside him.

"I've believed worse. So, what are you? Like a superhuman?" Harry asked interestedly and poked at him with a long finger. Clark grinned and stood at his six foot five; that was a lot easier than he thought it would be.

"Wanna see?"

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Draco Malfoy was bored. After five hours in Lex's car, five on the porch and about ten around the mansion about the size of his side of the Malfoy Manor, not only was he exhausted, he was utterly bored. His irate cousin had left him in a 'living room' connected to the rest of his quarters with a headache, claiming to retire for the night and continue Malfoy's infatuation with all things Muggle at a reasonable hour. Lex had pouted when he departed, mumbling about something he had to tell the president of several countries to do and then leaving.

Draco had laughed at the idea when his father had first told him. It seemed the Luthors, though pureblood, ruled over the Muggle race without actually ruling over the Muggle race and without the use of magic. It was ironic, really, how his father insisted on destroying all things dealing with the none-magic-patrons of the universe and here, his father's brother, had them all in the palm of his hand. He supposed his uncle and father put a whole new word to sibling rivalry if that was the case. Both striving for control of an entire world and, if he was honest with himself, he would have to say that his uncle had won, judging by Lex's comfortable surroundings and many servants.

Draco breathed deeply, sucking in a large breath and holding it. He wondered idly what Potter was doing. This thought, however, sparked an entire new train of thought, as well as an entire new problem rising between his legs. He wondered if Potter was sleeping, if he was did he sleep naked? Naked with white sheets that contrasted sharply and alluringly with tan skin?

The breath he had been holding left his lips in a huff of irritation and he glazed at the window near the fire place he had been lounging in front of, the black leather of the couch groaning with his movement. The Potter fuck, here he groaned longingly, assaulted him with his sexiness even when he wasn't present. Grumbling, the smell of new morning met his nostrils with the realization of the rising sun and a soft smile curved his lips. Standing from the grove his body had formed he stretched, silk shirt sliding up his pale skin, a yawn flowed from his lips.

His arms dropped to his sides, senses awakening from their soft trill of stillness. He felt as if he had had a full eight hours of delicious slumber, the hard on between his legs shrugged off with a thought of a naked Dumbledore. Yeah, he was that good.

A soft knock interrupted Draco's praises to himself of his knowledge to get rid of an unwanted erection and nocturnal abilities. He glanced at the door and waited patiently for his cousin to enter, knowing without knowing that it was he. The grand door swung open and Lex entered, clad in a tight, gray designer sweater that brought out the gray specks of his blue eyes and black slacks, his half smile covering his thin lips.

"Good morning, Draco," Lex drawled, hands sliding into his pockets, eyes running the length of his cousin's body and raising a thin eyebrow at his ruffled appearance. The blue gaze wept around the room before landing in the grove of the leather sofa. "I trust you did not sleep out here the entire night." Lex swaggered the distance between himself and Draco, looking expectantly up at the somewhat taller boy.

"No, Alexander, I didn't sleep," Malfoy suppressed a sneer at Lex's stated inquiry, reminding himself at, though Lex reminded him so much of his uncle and father, he, like himself, was not made by the man that sired him. "If you'll excuse me, I must make myself presentable. Isn't Uncle Lionel coming to visit, today?" Draco glided to the room Lex had dubbed the bathroom, opening the door and taking in the fine taste for a moment before glancing over his shoulder at his cousin.

Lex had waited patiently until he was acknowledged again, as he knew he would be. He tilted his head to the side slightly before nodding, watching his cousin enter the black tiled room before the door was closed firmly.

"Clark and your friend will be coming by later as well," he called casually through the door, noting the rest of the room appeared as he had left it and the room to his cousin's bedroom had yet to be opened. He heard the shower turn on through the door before turning to leave.

"It's funny how you just assume that Clark boy will come to you just because you told him he could stop by," Draco called after him. Lex chuckled to himself and left, closing the grand door behind with a bang to emphasize his departure to his chuckling cousin, shaking his head in disbelief at the young wizard through the door.

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About nineteen hours prior to this, and about fifty or so miles away, Harry stood in the middle of a field with Clark Kent. The taller boy had, so far, shown his super speed, x-ray vision, and strength of running the both of them to the middle of a beautiful green field, telling Harry he liked wearing boxers, too, and tossing Harry about twenty feet into the air, catching him. After the display of his third power, Harry had been somewhat weary to witness the rest but, nonetheless, eager.

"I can set things on fire with my eyes, too," Clark laughed. The sound reminded him of Ron when he was really eager to show something he was good at or had won yet another game of chess against Harry. Harry looked up at Clark and smiled widely, nodding in encouragement at the boy across from him even though the only thing boyish about Clark was his face.

For a moment, in which Clark set a few random branches on fire, Harry forgot all about the war and why he was in America, in Kansas, in Smallville with an alien from some planet that had been destroyed, according to Clark. "Are you okay? Am I freaking you out?" Clark's voice broke through his melancholy thoughts, his sad smile lightening at Clark's concern. He shook his head hard in the negative. "Want me to show you something else?" So this was what it was like to have a cousin that cared? Hell, yeah! He felt giddy all of a sudden.

"Hey, do you think your mum would mind if we went into town?" Harry asked, eager to meet the friends Clark spoke so fondly of. The tall boy nodded and, checkered fleece and all, picked Harry up wedding style, running, super speed in the direction of town.

Nineteen hours later found Harry snuggling into Clark's blankets, covering his head from the rising sun and enjoying the second peaceful slumber of the past two years.

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Harry awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon, the high notes of the scent tingling his nose as he sat up groggily and slipped on his glasses. Making a mental note to thank Clark for allowing him the use of his bed, he grinned stupidly to himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the large, fluffy bed. His feet dragged somewhat across the carpeting of the floor, the fluffy royal blue of it a comfort in it's own. He scratched his chest sleepily, making his way down the steps with all the grace of a newly awakened teenage boy. Turning, he blinked for a moment, feeling his face heat up as well as the rest of his body when Clark turned, staring at him along with some dark haired girl standing near the counter where a warm breakfast awaited him.

"Um…you're awake," Clark smiled awkwardly for him, stepping forward somewhat. Harry crossed his arms nervously over his tan chest; trying to cover the top half of his boxer clad body the best he could.

"Yeah, I think I'll go put some clothes on now that I have utterly embarrassed myself," Harry muttered, his accent coloring his words as he turned sharply and bounded up the steps with an apologetic smile to Clark and his company.

Not that Lana felt there was any need for an apology of any sort. Clark's cousin was almost as built as Clark himself, if not a bit lanky though he was about as tall as her. She allowed a shudder through her person when he turned away to leave, his sharp green eyes brighter than even Clark's, which said something as she found herself losing herself in them more than often these days.

His tan was a bit darker than Clark's, an almost bronze brown which reminded her of Pete but not enough to where she would question if he were black or white. And that chest, if she hadn't seen Clark's own eight pack and ripping pecks she would have sworn that the lean muscle wrapped in leathery looking skin was not normal in it's enticing appeal. What –was- it about Kent men? And he looked –so- familiar.

"Lana?" she hadn't noticed staring after him until Clark placed a warm hand to her shoulder. Damn, she had glimpsed the teen's fingers, all long and strong, just like Clark's. She shuddered again, turning big eyes up to her multi-savior as the rode her thoughts were taking were a bit disloyal to Jason and she couldn't have that. No, she couldn't, could she?

"Yes, Clark?" The same calculating look Clark obtained when he was suspicious ghosted over his narrowed eyes, sending a pang of guilt through her at eyeing his younger cousin so readily with no regard for his age or for her own boyfriend.

"Are you okay?" Clark removed his hand nervously as always and she smiled as reassuringly as she could, placing her hands in her pockets and shrugging her shoulders, her plate of hair bouncing slightly at the movement as she looked up at him.

"Fine, Clark, just a little absent minded. Make sure to tell your mom I stopped by," she trailed, turning smoothly in her Lana grace and leaving with a smile to Clark. He stared after her, brow furrowed as he entertained the idea of Lana having interest in his sixteen-year-old cousin.

"She left already?" Harry's voice broke through a disturbing image of Lana wooing his cousin. Clark turned and raised both eyebrows in surprise. Harry was drowning in one of his farm jeans though the loose fitting blue shirt that was somewhat tight on him rectified the largeness of them. He nodded and Harry sighed, his shoulder's slumping slightly before he shrugged. "Oh, well. I just wanted to patch my broken pride at standing in my boxers in front of a girl I never met before," his sigh was lighthearted and somewhat playful as he almost skipped to the counter, plopping in the nearest chair which happened to be across from where Clark stood. "This for me?"

Clark nodded again, tilting his head to the side in interest as he took a seat across from his cousin, curious despite himself about Harry. The previous day they had glossed over him being a wizard and there was the very small demonstration but the better part of the day had been spent on him.

"Yeah, Mom said to help yourself, I already ate so dig in," he prompted when Harry just looked at him. The shorter male needed no other encouragement and did just that, starting with flying toast crumbs, shredded bacon and vacuumed eggs. By the time Harry slowed down enough to speak around a mouth full of toast and eggs, Clark was covered in as much food as a five year old could consume by him. "Hungry?"

Harry's blush froze his ravenous appetite and he swallowed largely before wiping his mouth with a near by napkin.

"I think so," he chuckled, grinning at Clark's food clothing before waving a hand at him, the bits of food disappearing to leave Clark as clean as he had been previously which is about how clean a superhuman that works on a farm can be.

"Alright, you wanna explain to me about your world?" Clark asked patiently and Harry's grin fell somewhat though he found relief in someone actually asking instead if inquiring. This relief opened new windows of thought, which he promptly shut in order to save himself the headache. He thought for a moment, running over the options of denying everything, beating around the bush or being straightforward. Deciding on his last choice he sipped at his orange juice and nodded.

"Where to begin…" Harry trailed, standing up with his dishes and moving to the sink. Back facing Clark, he began. "Firstly, my name is Harry Potter, not Harry Evans. Evans was my mother's last name and if you don't know already, I'm an orphan. My parents were killed by an evil guy named Voldemort whose basically some crazy fuck that thinks he can take over the world if he can just kill me and all the Muggles in existence." He turned to make sure Clark was listening to see him facing him, elbows resting on the counter, head tilted to the side as he studied him. Harry blushed at the close scrutiny turning back to the dishes.

"Okay," the taller boy pronounced slowly, nodding, "go on."

By the time Harry had completed his life's tale, Clark had his elbows on his knees, his head tilted all the way to the side in a somewhat wistful expression. Harry had, of course, left out the more embarrassing details only going as far as Cho's wet kiss and Draco's obvious seduction.

"And now I'm here because the Ministry finally decided to put me in the Wizard Protection Program (WPP) because -Malfoy-, of all people, needs protection and if the resident son of the most powerful Death Eater needs protection, then surely the Boy-Who-Lived does as well," he mumbled to himself in an impeccable 'run-on' sentence. Harry stopped scrubbing the immaculate counter and took a breath, tossing the worn rag into the sink and turning around to face Clark.

He exhaled loudly, wiping his hands on his jeans with an expectant look to the silent alien. Clark blinked once, then again and Harry wondered briefly if he did that when he was confused or trying to take something in that was particularly difficult to process. At least that was what he supposed he would do, after all, Clark -did- remind him of himself more often then not.

"Yeah, you do blink a lot when your confused or surprised," Clark grinned suddenly, standing to allow full power to his megawatt smile, "and you talk to yourself when you're nervous or have a lot on your mind." The jibe lightened Harry's mood considerably and he returned the smile, convinced the room brightened a watt or two when they shared the flex of mouth muscles and flash of teeth.

"And how would you know, you've only known me for a day," Harry teased, sticking out his tongue childishly as he grabbed one of Clark's fleece/ jacket/ checkered wear hanging from one of the hooks by the door.

"I know you have a thing for my clothes," Clark pointed out good naturedly, grabbing the one beside it. It did not pass either mind that they shared an unspoken agreement to head out for the day.

"Yup. So, where to, today, mate?" Harry pointedly ignored the use of his best friend's favorite pet name for him and shrugged, pulling on Clark's large fleece with a big smile to the owner of said outerwear.

"I thought we'd stoop by the loo for some tay," Clark's horrible British accent and misplaced words caused an uproar of laughter from his companion. He smiled broadly when the Gryfindor calmed down enough to breath normally, locking the door and bounding down the steps after him. "Wanna meet my friend, Lex, Hare?" He asked conversationally, opening the gate for the slightly bouncing boy. Harry shrugged cheerfully, wrapping both arms around Clark's neck the best he could when they stood from the gate. Clark's blush spread from his neck to rest on his cheeks, a confused blink of the eyes accompanying his flush.

"Sweep me away you big strong, beastly, He-man you," Harry sighed dramatically, batting his eyelashes in large flutters and innocent widening. Clark chuckled to himself, shaking his head in a question of the boy's sanity before sweeping him off his feet and running full speed.

"With what you've been through, I'm surprised you have enough humor left to play like that," the words tumbled from his mouth unbidden, immediately regretting them when his thought process kicked in. Harry stared at him for a moment, his expressive eyes closing off momentarily before they brightened once more, the grin from his face purposeful as he snuggled into Clark's arms that acted as a sort of tight crib for his upper body and part of his thighs.

"I know I'm wonderful," Clark's laughter couldn't really be heard at that speed, no better than the flap of a humming bird's wings.

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Draco Malfoy was not a very affectionate individual. In fact, the most affection he showed, in any case, usually took place behind closed, locked and barred doors in which he would share a distant 'I love you' with his mother or an 'I admire you' with his father. Then there were the occasional sweet nothings dished to the many fucks under his expensive belt and, lastly, his brotherly air with Lex Luthor, the only cousin not above thirty or below fourteen, and, by far, the favorite of the bunch.

This love for his cousin did not just appear one day, no. After all, Lex was destined to destroy all mankind and be surrounded by blood and roses, and Draco was destined to destroy all good things in the world, from plants to creatures to the very water he drank and be surrounded by the waste he created readily, both committing their crimes with their family smirk. This had been seen. It might have taken the deaths of three Seers and one non-magical human but it had been seen.

Some how, both aristocrats had known they were alike in their 'evil' and had taken to each other the moment they met at Draco's birth, Lex already about four. That was strange for Malfoy and Luthor men as they were cold toward everyone else. Draco didn't even like his mother when she first held him as he had been told, and yet, Lex had become the center of his world when he held no knowledge of it. And the same went for Lex, if not more so as he had more time to refuse the world around him, four years to reject both his mother and father before Draco. It seemed the addition of each other had warmed something, somewhere, which, after their first meeting, caused the two to be quite pleasant children though practically inseparable.

The opening of a door interrupted Draco's musings as well as the comfortable silence between his cousin and himself as they relaxed in Lex's nicely furnished office. Grey eyes slid gracefully to the door, blue eyes already settled on the aging form of his Uncle Lionel. Draco allowed a smirk to curve the corner of his lips, rising to properly greet the old man for the first time in years, as Lex preferred to visit him of his own accord and had not brought his father with him. He formally outstretched his hand, patiently waiting as the man's wrinkled eyes surveyed him, the thin lips pursing over his trimmed facial hair.

"My how you have grown," Lionel's deep voice seemed to lessen his age, reminding the blonde distinctly of his father, "you've nothing but a handshake for your uncle, Draco," Lionel smiled. The sight was somewhat strange, but warmed him, as it had not done in other meetings with his uncle. He wrapped his arms around the man, and though it felt utterly wrong to have physical contact to such an extent that was not with a lover, it was kind of nice.

The young Malfoy heir suppressed a shiver of disgust when he thought of his uncle that way, the much older man holding on longer than necessarily, even if it was the first hug he had given an old person. He reminded himself to stop hugging old people as well as pay attention more to his surroundings instead of falling into ways that will disgust him farther.

"Father, I had no idea you were that affectionate," Lex's voice seemed to brighten Draco's day from the dullness it had adopted when Lionel entered the room and he told him so through one of their many shared looks. "Why don't you take a seat and we'll catch up?" Lex gestured to the seat across from Draco's previous seat, perching himself on the edge of what the blonde had dubbed 'Draco's chair'.

Lex had always been rather possessive of anything resembling a friend. He had witnessed it with Clark when he leaned over to shake the boy's hand, even when Lex spoke to Clark his voice held a desperate tone he used very seldom in casual speech, yet often in personal conversations with Draco that screamed to Draco's trained ear 'don't let me hurt you, too.' He experienced it in everyday life when visiting Lex or when Lex was visiting him, as if he wanted Draco all to himself and anyone that wasn't as important or more important than Draco was a potential threat. This was the case with his father.

"So, what have you and your father been up to for the past twenty four months, time passes too quickly, does it not?" Lionel's voice only echoed in his mind and he gave the appropriate response. He did not dwell on it and allowed his mind to finish it's thought process before immersing himself in his relatives' conversation on politics in both worlds when Lionel asked if Lucius had taken over yet.

Lionel's feelings for his nephew were not always clearly innocent in affection and Draco got the distinct feeling of an underlying attraction, which made him encourage Lex's protective genes. If Lex had to resort to short comments and extensive sarcasm to 'protect' Draco from Lionel, he would not object in any way or form. Nope.

Draco scowled slightly at the word, playing it off as a dislike for something the elder had said about Muggles when his lips actually formed the trademark facial feature while his mind followed a different train of thought. The word had sounded entirely too much like a certain raven haired Gryfindor and he groaned mentally, this just would not do. He did not notice the minute look Lex tossed his way a moment before he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind.

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_You know you liked it (grinning madly). What you have just read is what I meant by taking it down, the rest of the story should flow much the same but, because I don't know which rating is which I can't guarantee that there will be no lemony goodness in later chapters (hinting)._

_I'm going to go through this again, just so i don't get any reviewsstating a choas of confusion other than what i expect to be confusing.I'd like to point out the numbers between each section. _

_Example:_

_Wordswordswordswordswords_

_11111111111_

_Wordswordswordswordswords_

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_This demonstrates time frames in which things take place so you do not get confused as you may while reading this chapter. Each number change shifted the time or the scene. I -am- nice but i will not hold your hand and go through each section with you to allow you to better understand the story as i am sure all of you are intellegent enough to do it yourselves. Think of it as a bit of an elementary challenge, as i am sure you'll go through it with ease, this is just a precation to help all of you understand my work to the best of your ability _

_SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN!_

_PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, REVIEW...! (That didn't sound right in the beginning with the pleading, did it...? smirk)_

_Until next time..._

_Ash_


	7. Sexy Tension

_Disclaimer: Fuck you...nah, i don't own it..._

_**A/N**: Hello you lot...sorry it took so long to update...I'm aware that previously i had stated there would no longer be these long waits in which you would just sit back and idle along as i twiddled my thumbs...since i did already kinda write the next few chapters... _

_**Please read if you are confused within the crossover:**_

_For those of you that are not prevy to Smallville, I encourage you to watch a few episodes, or, if you're too lazy to do that, you can always just get a briefing on the show through the internet or just watch an episode as it is extremely simple to understand. To my untainted Harry Potter fans...( as in fans that know little to nothing outside of the world of Harry Potter), it would behoove you to do the same, or at least realize that if you know anything about Superman, Smallville is a warped version of 'The Adventures of Superboy', in which the "Evil" Lex Luthor of Superman was once Superboy's best friend. It's complicated in a simple way, if you ask me... If you have any questions or you want me to explain Smallville to you, review or email me.  
_

**_ Notes about the following chapter are as such..._**

_In previous chapters, I began from an -adult- point of view...as the chapters progress, i will instate the ever famous teenage angst or -teen- point of view. No, i will not be working in first or second person to achieve this level of "tuning down", as I hate fics that switch up so readily, however, i -will- be attempting to bring the drama down just a bit. This chapter, however is leading to some lime and maybe some really, really Mike's__ Hard__ Lemonade ( --do not own) type of smut... (**smirk**)  
_

_This fic, to all that have farther problems with homoreality, will be Lex/ Clark or Clark/ Lex, which means, in lamens terms: Lex will fuck Clark or Clark will fuck Lex. I'm not big with the heterosexual scenes, though, to serve all purposes of **Dirty Secrets**, I will have to "touch on" (maybe write some slight limes) female/ male pairs. I will warn you, prior to the chapter, just in case you do not want to read it, or I become prevy to the fact that you might have a problem with the pairing I am about to write. _

_Please, review, and tell me if you have any problems, at all, with the afore mentioned notes. **Comments, questions and concerns will be rewarded with answers and new chapters.**_

_(As for the numbers between chapters, refer to the previous chapter for the guideline)_

_ Okay, now that all that serious shit is out of the way, let's get on to the actual chapter, finally..._

* * *

_Where we last left off..._

Draco scowled slightly at the word, playing it off as a dislike for something the elder had said about Muggles when his lips actually formed the trademark facial feature while his mind followed a different train of thought. The word had sounded entirely too much like a certain raven haired Gryfindor and he groaned mentally, this just would not do. He did not notice the minute look Lex tossed his way a moment before he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind.

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**Sexy Tension**

"Welcome to Luthor Manor, please keep all arms and legs in the vehicle until we have come to a complete stop," Clark teased lightly, placing Harry down when they stopped a few yards from the manor. Harry pouted, crossing his arms at the end of the ride.

"Why'd we stop here," and not at the door, the unspoken words caused a light smile to curve the corners of Clark's somewhat thin lips and he shrugged before his reply, striding up to the grand doors, Harry in toe.

"Cause Lex has cameras all over the place," Harry nodded thoughtfully at the answer, nibbling on his lower lips as his big eyes took in the large mansion, almost positive Malfoy's home looked exactly like this, if not bigger. Clark rang the doorbell, a big grin on his face, giving Harry the distinct impression that the tall farmer was up to something.

The door creaked open, a chubby little maid with the cutest cheeks opening it for them and smiling politely at Harry before caballing away. The little woman reminded him of a house elf when comparing her size and of Hagrid as her cheeks were a big, plump red. She was just so -cute-. Harry giggled a little girlishly to himself at the little woman's back, Clark by his side, shaking his head at the Gryfindor's antics. "Cute right?" Harry nodded enthusiastically at Clark's question, all of a sudden feeling giddy to spend the day with Clark and the hot bald guy, even if Draco (he meant Malfoy) went along with the package. "You're talking to yourself, again," Clark whispered when they came to a set of glass, white wood doors.

The little maid opened them after knocking three times precisely, revealing two Luthors and a Malfoy in mid conversation. Lex was the first to look up, his slight frown twitching upward in one of his half smiles as he rose from his perch on the side of Malfoy's chair, halting his father in mid tirade.

"Clark, what a pleasant surprise," Lex drawled, his voice prompting the Malfoy heir to look from Lionel to the door, a smirk curved his lips. There, beside the farmer boy, stood Potter, almost dwarfed by a pair of big, baggy pants and a loose shirt that he didn't look too bad in, appealing innocence and all.

Harry blinked around the large office for a second, taking in the many books, modern, yet Victorian décor, before allowing his eyes to take in the other occupants of the room besides himself, his cousin and the now exiting maid. He took in Clark's friend, an elderly man sitting across from a blonde, but not any blonde, -that- blonde. Reclining on a black leather couch, sat the blonde object of his woe and he mentally groaned at the sexual appeal Draco radiated. The Malfoy heir swirled a brown liquid around in a cup absently as he watched Harry, the silk of his white button up shirt catching light with his movements, navy blue designer pants crossed casually, the arm without the glass resting on the arm rest.

"Hey, Lex, you know, Harry, right?" his cousin's voice broke Harry from his stare and he turned his eyes to the hot bald guy, smiling politely as he offered his hand, pushing anything about Draco and his sex appeal to the innermost reaches of his mind.

"We've met," he grinned when Lex took his hand, the coolness almost pleasant against his slightly flushed, tan skin. He hadn't realized he'd been thinking about Draco enough to become _flushed_ -already-. Lex's eyes were distinctly calculating, a half smile offered to Harry, who felt he'd missed some joke at the amused twinkle of the tall, young man's eyes.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Luthor," Harry offered nervously, chewing on his lower lip the moment Lex released his hand from his firm, cool grip.

"Please, Harry, call me Lex, the only Mr. Luthor here is my father," the drawling voice sent a shiver of something he could not place down his spine, a similar action beside him as he became desperately aware of Clark's presence. At Lex's cue, the older looking man stood and glided up to him.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Kent, I trust your mother is well," the man drawled, Harry felt Clark tense. He looked up at his cousin from the side and saw his eyes narrow slightly.

"She's fine," Clark's tight voice reassured him of the somewhat distrustful air surrounding the older man, the gray of his hair fading with the sound of his velvet voice.

"And you must be," Lionel glanced to his son as he scooped Harry's hand into his own, "Mr. Potter?" Harry felt little prickles of alarm shooting up his spine at, not only the contact, but also his name. His large green eyes flicked everywhere in panic. "I'm Lionel Luthor, Draco's uncle." His world stopped spinning so madly when his hand was released, though it teetered slightly and he edged toward Clark, almost hiding behind him when Draco rose from his seat to greet them.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Luthor," Harry mumbled, casting his eyes downward and trying to remember any of his self taught manners to prevent him from running out the door at the older man's closeness. Lex, he didn't mind because he reminded him a smidgen of Draco and had a calming, though dangerous air about him. But Lex's dad reminded him too much of Lucius Malfoy when he first saw the man, not at all pleased with any of the man before him.

He felt Clark step forward a bit when Draco, too, glided up to them. He had almost forgotten he had told his cousin all about his rivalry with the Slytherin. To his relief, Draco did not offer his hand nor have the expectancy of an offered hand, the blonde just standing there for a moment, looking both Harry and Clark over.

"Potter, Kent," he nodded, sipping tranquilly at his drink. The simple gesture seemed to lessen the tension of the room considerably and he felt Clark's tension ease slightly from his body though he had no idea why he had become so aware of his cousin in such a short time.

"As you can see, Clark, I'm in a bit of a meeting with my father and cousin, so, if you wouldn't mind, could you wait in the game room for us?" Lex asked calmly, slender, pale hands sliding into the pockets of his trousers. The man was all mystery appeal and play boy mansion owner. Harry tilted his head to the side slightly when he felt more tension ease from Clark's body, smiling in farewell politeness over his shoulder when Clark nodded and turned, Harry in toe.

_ 111111111111111_

Harry grinned from ear to ear at all the new toys, Clark flopping gracelessly onto a comfortable looking beanbag, the large fluffy chair shaped object deflating somewhat at his weight.

"You look excited." Clark smiled, grabbing a remote for some game that looked oddly enough like PlayStation 2, Stars Wars: Immortality. He pushed the buttons at so fast a pace it would have put any advanced game player to shame. "I had the exact same face when I saw it," he grinned stupidly, glancing at Harry for a second before turning his eyes back to the large, wall size screen.

"It -is- nice," he agreed, wandering around, observing and poking at the many game stations, TVs, pool tables, dart boards, arcade games, ping-pong tables, as well as the racket room, tennis court, and computer room. "Why don't you like Mr. Luthor?" Harry asked suddenly, standing beside Clark's beanbag to watch him play for a moment.

"He's not exactly a good guy, I would almost go as far as to say he's as bad as that Lucius guy," Clark paused in his game for a moment and Harry decided not to pry.

"Okay." Harry wandered over to a large stereo contraption and pushed the big power button. As soon as he did so, 'Can You Keep Up' played loudly, drowning out the sounds from the TV and blasting the room. Harry shared a stupid grin with Clark before going to the other side of the huge room, grabbing a near by basketball and dribbling on the cement of the basketball court. Harry entertained the thought of the room being magically enlarged but decided not to dwell on it.

"Hey, Clark, wanna play some one on one?" Harry hoaxed, smiling mischievously when the farmer looked up from the game he had just won. The song changed to 'Get Back' and they both grinned stupidly at each other, heads nodding to the beat.

"Sure," he tossed the remote aside and crossed the cement to meet Harry. "Ten points?" Harry nodded and he took off his jacket, tossing it aside. "I don't plan on going easy on you just because you know my secret." The glint in both their eyes mirrored one another.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

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"But that still doesn't change the fact that they are below us."

"However below us they are, they still are of a certain value, much like house elves, Draco."

"House elves with too many troublesome thoughts, why not extinguish the threat while you still can?"

"Well, I think we've held up the boys long enough, don't you, Draco?" Lex interrupted the argument between his father and cousin, standing from his perch on the side of the Draco's chair, becoming utterly bored with the drabble in knowing that his cousin held no true emotion behind his argument, no matter that he was actually winning.

His father stood, as well as Draco, who finally finished his drink, the expensive glass disappearing with a wave of his hand. Draco nodded politely to Lionel, swaggering over to the door to wait for Lex. "You know the way out, Father," Lex half smiled, striding to Draco before opening the grand doors and sweeping out with a flourish.

"You know, your exit would have looked all the better if you had had robes on that wonderful frame of yours," Draco told him after a moment, matching strides with his cousin as they turned down hall after hall of the seemingly endless maze. Lex chuckled, turning once more before glancing at his cousin.

"Your flattery is lost on me, Draco, we -are- cousins, after all," Lex drawled and it was Draco's turn to chuckle, the pair stopping at a pair of gargantuan doors, the blonde observing them appreciatively before running a hand down Lex's arm.

"That didn't stop us before, dear cousin," they both chuckled secretively and the doors opened for them. They made it about two yards into the room before both paused in their casual stride, staring wide-eyed at the mini court before them. The room seemed to rise in temperature at the sight that greeted them and Lex wished silently that he had placed some cameras in here when monitoring the rest of the castle.

"You know, you're pretty good for some five foot nothing four eyes," Clark heaved, breathing heavily as he blocked the basket from Harry, moving from side to side as the Gryfindor tried to find an opening between Clark's constantly moving body and the basket. They moved to the sound of 'Karma'. He had never gotten tired before and was amazed at the shorter for his ability to cause the little beads of perspiration on his brow. Their banter was light as he found himself in awe over the little wizard before deciding the Gryfindor had somehow made him normal to even the playing field a bit. He shocked himself with good humor when he smiled, nearly a smirk instead of becoming worried at the idea.

"Resorting to name calling?" Harry was breathing just as heavily and he falsely moved right before rounding left, jumping as he made his shot only to have it shot down by Clark, the shirtless farmer smirking cockily at him. "Don't know why you're smiling so hard," Harry smirked back, the ball all of a sudden in his hand, "the game -is- nine, nine." He threw the ball again, this time nudging Clark out of the way as the tall boy went to jump block it. The ball slammed into the net with a jiggle, bouncing off the cement with no one to catch it. "Make that ten, nine." 'I'm Rick James, Club Style' came on and Harry started dancing to it, 'the heel-toe' a surprise victory dance. Clark shook his head warily.

"Why do I think you're as good a dancer as you are a basketball player?" Clark asked, unbuttoning the top of his jeans to get some air. Harry pulled off his wife beater, not hearing the issuing gasps in the room.

"Oh, you'd be right," he stopped his victory dance and wiped his sweaty forehead with his tank, tossing an arm around Clark's shoulders the best he could. "That's okay though, maybe next time," Harry grinned cockily. "Lex wouldn't happen to have some showers and a change of clothes near by would he?" He asked when Clark tickled his side, a laugh obscuring the question. Clark shrugged and looked to the door only to freeze in his light chuckle. Harry, seeing this, turned as well, just when 'Feel Me, Club Version' began to play.

"I think I have something for you," Lex drawled, bringing himself and his cousin from their daze after witnessing two tanned, muscled bodies flexing around each other. Maybe he could -join- them in their shower. Draco and Lex shared a smirk before the former snapped his fingers, towers materializing out of thin air. He held both of them out with a raised eyebrow, the Gryfindor blushing an apple red before he nodded his thanks and took the towel. Clark's eyes glanced from his cousin to Malfoy before accepting the other towel.

"Thanks," he grinned, Kent charm lighting the somewhat tension dulled room as he wiped his brow, "so you guys wanna do some two on two?" He shared a smile with Harry, whose blush had reseeded.

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Harry Potter stared at himself in the mirror, a thoughtful frown adorning his features as he observed his flawless figure with a critical brow, his bareness allowing the boy to examine himself farther though his full body flush had taken precedence. Though his eyes followed his form, his thoughts did not follow that path. Instead, he found himself pondering the enigma that was Draco Malfoy.

The blonde Adonis had somehow wormed his way into Harry's thoughts, similar to the way the potion's master had, whispering sweet nothings never uttered and promises never promised. It was mind-boggling, not to mention frustrating as he found the blonde now appealing rather than rude and attractive rather than unpleasant. Yeah, he was screwed.

He sighed to himself as he began to put back on his clean clothing, Lex having had his personal maid take care of the sweaty wear and Harry felt himself blush once again at the reminder of being in front of Malfoy and Malfoy's cousin, naked save for a robe. To his horror, as he had still not gotten over the ordeal, Clark had been the one to suggest it. He was still somewhat upset with his cousin for persuading him to undress and adorn the silky robe in favor of allowing the maid to take care of their clothing so they didn't have to go through the day smelling like that. He was even more upset when he remembered he was a -wizard- and didn't have to have his clothing cleaned manually, nor did he have to take a shower, mid-shower. He could have easy cast a spell, though their wands had been taken away, wandless.

The only factor in the situation that had made it any better was that Clark, too, undressed, the farmer blushing as hard as Harry when the Gryfindor pointed out that he needed a shower too. Lex and Draco both wore smirks that sent a shiver up his spine, the implication behind the smirks a tease in the light that they aroused him. Another sigh escaped his red lips, and he noted to himself that he would have to stop chewing on them if he didn't want to look like the pouf he was slowly becoming. Oh, he had known that he was attracted to males, yes, but he didn't know he was becoming so flamboyantly gay. Honestly, what straight man would think the word "cute"?

At this thought, his mind took a turn back to the blonde git. Even if Malfoy had not uttered a rude comment or made a rude gesture for the time they had been out of Hogwarts, nor after their "escapades" (here he blushed a darker red before calming slightly to a pink hue), the Gryfindor forced himself to remember that for the past six years, going on seven, Draco had been a complete arsehole.

Harry allowed himself to dwell on their first sexual encounter in the potion's room with only a semi-red flush, realizing suddenly that he had felt none of the after effects he had expected to feel, though how he -expected- to feel anything was beyond him as he was sure he had not been thinking much during or after the ordeal. He had heard Ron talk about how when men did "it" they felt soreness… "Back there".

Yes, our Golden Boy is, in fact, -that- innocent where he would think sex in terms of "doing it" and his ass as "back there". After being, he coughed to himself, pulling his shirt over his head, 'fucked' by Draco Malfoy, he didn't even feel the tenderness of his hole or ass which was strange in itself. By the time he pushed that thought in the back of his head for later analysis, he was fully dressed and blushing cherry.

A tentative knock came to the door as if on cue, as if waiting for Harry to come from his troubling, though arousing, thoughts, man was he -sick-. He heard Clark laugh on the other side of the door, the deep baritone a stark contrast to Harry's own somewhat girly voice, even if it had dropped an octave or so.

"You're talking to yourself again, Harry," Clark laughed from the other side of the door, "Oh, and Draco magic-ed me and my clothes clean so I don't have to get in the shower," the tone was amused and Harry stuck his tongue out at the door, running a hand through his still wet hair after turning back to the mirror. Clark only laughed a little louder and Harry sighed yet again, opening the expensive looking wood to glower at the tale alien. The taller smiled cheekily down at him. Harry punched him in the chest hard, tweaking Clark's surrounding atmosphere as he had done when they were playing basketball, drawing an "Uff" from Clark.

"You gotta tell me how you keep doing that," Clark muttered lowly to him as Harry stepped from the bathroom. Harry's eyes scanned the expanse of the room, catching Draco and Lex locked in what looked like a staring contest at the doors to the game room.

"Well," Lex greeted somewhat loudly when he realized they were being watched, "why don't we adjourn to the kitchen for some lunch?" He asked, already gliding out of the room with a smirking Draco in toe. Harry glanced at Clark in question, "what were they talking about?" the silent reservation in the look. Clark shrugged and Harry shrugged "I don' know". They both grinned at being able to read one another so well before following the two aristocrats, Harry a bit behind Clark.

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_Well, now that that's over with, i will accept any outraged reviews demanding that i have someone fuck already or at least stop implying shit and write... Thus, I -am- aware of my lacking writing, and -will- improve in later chapters. If anything, this chapter was merely to ensure that Potter formally meet the Luthors and is aware of where Draco stays (**hint hint**). _

_Side-Sweet (**SS**): Want to hear the songs Potter danced to? Want to hear the songs Clark and Harry played to? Want to know what the 'heel-toe' dance is? Review and i'll send you the link!  
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_As usual,** SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN!** (Can you find yours, if you already suggested? If you can't, I haven't forgotten you...)_

**_PLEASE REVIEW! _**

_Until next time... _

_Ash_

_( P.S._

_A "side-sweet" is something an author, myself, will do for their readers in order to give them a better understanding of the story, a teaser, or a tool that will allow the reader to enjoy the story more. I made it up and it's a lot easier than typing -teaser- out. For example, this chapter's SS is instated so you can read and listen to the music written to the fiction )_**_  
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	8. Tanned Tension

_Disclaimer: Fuck off..._

_**A/N**: I am sorry for the long wait. I'v been having alot of distractions as of late and, though i always promise thus, i -will- try my best to update as soon as possible. This chapter includes a bit of incest but i think i can say that for all of my chapters, so i'll asume you lot don't care. This chapter also needs to be beta-ed, so i'll probably just replace it with a better one later on. As for on coming chapters, specifically the next one, their will be some boarding **NC-17**, so if you have a problem with that stop while you are ahead. Okay, enough of my ranting. For guidelines on numbering and other stuff you don't understand review, email, or just look to previous chapters, as i -really- do say things that are important...well...most of the time (grinning)_

_ Here we go...  
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_Where we last left off... _

Harry glanced at Clark in question, "what were they talking about?" the silent reservation in the look. Clark and Harry shrugged "I don' know". They both grinned at being able to read one another so well before following the two aristocrats, Harry a bit behind Clark.

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** Tanned Tension**

Draco watched in awe as food disappeared in mountains, the plate before him suddenly as empty as those surrounding him, his wider than normal silver eyes glaring accusingly at Potter who merely smiled around a mouth full of food, a little less reserved than the vacuum beside him formerly known as Clark Kent. They ate everything in sight and the blonde was surprised to find that it was only his food that had disappeared, Lex eating as daintily as always, his meager potions a banquet compared to what Draco had been about to eat, that is, before his food disappeared. He sighed to himself, glancing lazy around the kitchen, almost content to not have anything before him as an excuse to not eat.

Though Draco was by no means skinny, he detested food and only ate when direr, which is why he didn't necessarily mind when his lunch disappeared. It was agreed upon that after lunch they would take a drive down to the beach and 'hang out'. Having had few friends, the blonde didn't know what the hell was a 'hang out' nor did he discern the purpose of going to the beach, mid-September, and so offered his acceptance of whatever the hell they were doing with a graceful shrug.

By the time lunch was over, Potter and Kent were sitting back with satisfied smiles and excited eyes, the look resembling a five year old anxious to visit the park. Lex chuckled softly to himself when Clark stood and stretched, Harry following suite, their arms rising over their heads and revealing a section of washboard, tan stomach. Draco's smirk threatened to twitch into a smile when he noted how much food they had eaten, the lack of bulge to their abs an odd amusement.

He stood as well, moments after Lex, letting out a small sound of appreciation and cutting it off immediately when he realized his cousin –had-, in fact, noticed his lack of consumption. Even if he had been preoccupied with watching the farm boy's every move, lusting twinkling eyes in place, he had seen Draco take in nothing at the table. Alexander had once told him, Draco mused as the four of them exited the kitchen, stopping by the 'closet' to grab some outer wear, that no matter the situation, no matter the direction of his attention, he would always notice Draco, consciously or unconsciously. Thus, Draco's affection for Lex Luthor, their almost possessive tendencies toward one another led the emotion-deprived blonde to believe that he might even -love- his cousin.

His thoughts trailed this path, his eyes a soft unseeing wonderment as he ignored his surroundings, withdrawing from the light bantering of his cousin, Potter and Kent, opting to stay within his own mind for the ride in Lex's nice, red, Ferrari. He sighed to himself, head facing away from the road and Lex to stare out the nonexistent window. Unheeding of the sharp, worried blue eyes glancing his way every now and again from the long road of the highway.

_111111111111111_

Harry Potter was in awe. The breeze swept through his hair in a fiery of salt tinted air, the sun blazing brighter then he had ever seen it. His shock at the contentment surging through him did nothing to prepare him for the sight of Draco Malfoy in trunks. Long blonde hair framed the pale face and, save for the stark paleness of his skin, Harry would have thought the aristocrat to be one of those surfer boys he'd seen on some show Dudley watched. His eyes racked the lean body, only to be deterred, with little disappointment, by the sight of Lex Luthor's equally pale expanse of skin.

For some reason, or other, he had always imagined Draco to swim in some type of thong, which showed more of his body then necessarily and Lex came off as the long swim trunks and t-shirt kind of guy. So, in a nutshell, to witness the mid-thigh swimming clothing on toned bodies ripping in barely restrained strength caused his shock to shiver into bewilderment. Not only was he gay, he thought to himself as his cousin jogged up to him from behind the car- their makeshift changing room-, but he was also an incestuous fuck. His cousin's tanned skin was kissed in pale progression as it trailed just below his waist, the skin a lighter tan near the band of low riding trunks. He blinked largely for a moment before returning the grin.

"Aren't you getting changed?" Clark asked, brow furrowing momentarily as he gave Harry a deliberate one over. Said Gryfindor eyed the cloudless sky, quickly deducing the temperature as fucking hot for mid September then correcting himself as it was fucking hot for any time of the year, noting he'd have to get used to the stifling heat if it remained this way for the duration of his stay. He also noted adopting Ron and Draco's vocabulary did nothing for him if he was not using the positive, less vulgar side of their grammar.

"Um…" he offered after a second of Clark's curious gaze, Lex's amused twinkle and Draco's unreadable leer, "yeah." He waved for them to continue without him, jogging to the car with a slight spring in his step.

Thus far, the passing week had knocked him flat on his ass, he mused, slipping the shirt over his head. He jumped slightly when he glanced over the top of the car to see Malfoy staring at him, a confused jolt causing him to raise an uncharacteristic eyebrow. The blonde's intense gaze became blank once more, a graceful shrug leading his turn as he jogged to the shore moments behind Lex.

Harry shook his head, snorting softly when his ears perked at the sound of Clark's joyous laughter, the childish glee unmistakable. He shimmed out of his pants keeping an eye out for his watcher, a bit freaked out and, to his horror, turned on, at the prospect of the blonde god watching him change. One more article of clothing found Harry starkers, his tanned arse airborne as he lifted the clothing over his privates, a bit put off that they were a lot bigger on him then they were on the others, though the swim where were all the same sizes. Then again, he reflected, it was probably better then them being a bit tight, as they were on Clark. But Clark looked –great- in the slight fitting swimwear, was his internal counter. Yeah, he was sick…and screwed.

This notion had followed the sight of three, muscled, wet guys, all-splashing around in the chilled water of the sea. The artist in him surged forward in a moment of appreciation at the beauty that presented itself. The sight of Lex Luthor kicking water at Clark who was trying to get away yielding to the soft chuckle and almost grin of Draco Malfoy as Clark tripped on the sand beneath the water brought a soft smile to his face. Had it only been a day since he had met his cousin and only today since he had met the son of multi-billionaire crazy guy Lionel Luthor? Had it only been three days since his escapade in the potion's room with Hogwarts' sex god?

_22222222222222222222_

Four hours later found the four young men lying along the shore in a tangle of exhausted limbs, heavy breathing the only sound save the crashing of cool water onto the cooling beach. They had all chased one another, three of them piled atop the heaving form of one Harry Potter in a dog pile. The sole Potter heir grinned from beneath them, confident in himself once more when he realized he was not so much of a poof that he could no longer partake in the wonders of male bonding; a furious blush stained his cheeks at the unintentional suggestion. He grunted loudly when Clark shifted, the one closest to him, the weight on his chest making it a bit difficult to breath.

"Um…Clark?" The tallest of the group sighed contently, snuggling into Harry's lightly haired, clean smelling armpit. A loud snore erupted from him and Harry, along with Draco and Lex could not help the bouts of the laughter that followed, awaking the lightly dozing alien from his little nap between Draco and Harry. A shiver somewhere atop them signaled the brunette cousins, the temperature of a night so close to the sea leaving the threat of a possible cold in the air tempting their bodies into movement.

Lex groaned softly as he was pushed off, rather roughly, from his cousin's back, the blonde having no choice but to topple over him as Clark had been the one to initiate the tumble of bodies off the long suffering Potter child. His half smile curved his lips, looking up at the now standing raven-haired boy, the emerald eyes twinkling at him despite the pout of dusted rose lips. "You wanker. You didn't have to join in and put your fat ass on top of those too ogres." Harry pouted, crossing his arms over his bare chest with the wind. Yes, Lex thought to himself, sitting up, I could definitely find liking in Clark's cousin.

"You know you liked it," he smirked, standing gracefully, dodging the punch the boy aimed at his chest with a light chuckle. They walked lazy back to the car with unhurried motions, a comfortable silence engulfing them.

He found odd the immediate bonding between himself and Potter, even stranger the relation between Clark and Draco, as the blonde rarely took to anyone, even if only for show. He shrugged lightly to himself and placed the thought in his file cabinet labeled "Later Analysis"; positive his cousin's later pondering file was full to bursting with the contemplative looks into space the blonde had been opting for the duration of their visit.

Lex allowed his eyes the pleasure of Clark's body, permitting a small glimmer of excitement along with the short lived ideal of acting on his feelings, flat out refusing the thought of taking Harry to his bed. If law bid him from Clark then morality refused Harry in every since of the sexual word, though the boy was quite beautiful, thus he would not be 'caught with his pants down', even in his own mind. His traveling eyes wandered to his cousin, a narrow eyebrow lifting at Draco's hungry ogle directed at the Potter boy's backside. He'd have to remind Draco that he's legal and Potter was still a minor, he chuckled, not bothering to change as he climbed into his car, the smooth leather sliding over the expanse of his back pleasantly. He smirked at his cousin, the blonde throwing him a half glare, half smirk when Clark climbed in beside him, leaving the small space beside Potter the only vacant seat in the low car.

Draco grumbled to himself, crossing his arms over his chest when Potter offered him a half smile, Clark's apologetic chuckle following Draco's slide next to the Golden Boy. He shifted as far as he could, a tangle of nerves for the first time in his life-save the few times he had been scared.

A few hours later found the Sex God of Hogwarts sweating bullets in the cool September air, the leather of the car sticking uncomfortably to his back and arms. He took a moment to come up with a logical reason as to why his body was shaking and his hands, though sweaty as well, were a clammy cold temperature. He decided, with one glance to the lightly dozing Golden Boy, that he was going through withdrawal.

The notion in itself was preposterous and he certainly didn't need the 'drama' that came with the thought, but it was the most logical reason he could come up presently. Truthfully, he could give a fuck care less if he was wrong or not, he just wanted to fuck someone, anyone. A picture of his uncle popped into his head, all too ready with the offer, causing another little shiver to run down the expanse of his spine. Then again, even his –uncle- looked good when his body ached for the indulgence of a good fuck, which made him a bit nauseous. He cursed silently, feeling the familiar gentle prodding of his cousin's presence within his mind.

With a deliberate bending of the wire like connection, he felt the equally pale Luthor leave his conscious, feeling questioning icy blue eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror. He gave a slight shake of his head when his eyes met his cousin's, the traditional 'later' signal adopted from a life time of secrecy and only detectable by someone in a like situation. Dumb-le-fuck trying to get in a tutu with Professor Snape eased his straining erection, the tent not to happy about going back down. He felt oddly angry and jealous at the idea of Dumbledore molesting his favorite professor, though, if he went past his current situation with the pale potion's master, he supposed the first was a natural reaction. Supposed? He cursed himself silently yet again. Slytherins did not suppose. Gryfindor's supposed. Slytherin's knew. His scowl, loud snoring and some shifting were the only elements to echo the car as they sped down the country rode, toward Kent Farm, easing his suspicions for the time being and adding on yet another file to future contemplations.

_3333333333333_

"Clark, wake up," Lex's gentle voice flowed like water over his ears, awaking the sleeping Kent. Said farmer caught himself just in time, arms only slightly lifted from where he had been about to reach out, fingers tingling at the somewhat difficult level of restraint he had to use.

"Potter," Draco's sneering voice awoke the other cousin. Harry shifted, turning from the corner he had been facing, his hair falling delicately in his eyes as he faced Draco. Green eyes peered questioningly from droopy lids, a bedroom effect given with the light sheen of sleep in emerald orbs.

"Huh?" And the Gryfindor just had to ruin the moment. Draco would have almost given him the title of sexy, but, oh no, he just –had- to be so fucking –cute-. The blonde's lips curved into a scowl, not that his scowl had left him in the hour or so it took to reach the Kent farm, but damn it, his eyes should have told the Gryfindor how –annoyed- he was. "Yeah, Draco, we here?"

If the Malfoy heir had been the sentimental type, he would have had to say that his heart skipped a beat or that time froze. But, being the none sentimental fuck that he really was, he glared coldly, leaning closer to The-Boy-Who-Lived until the dark haired boy blinked largely at him. Draco took a deep breath, exhaling it with his next words.

"And what, pray tell, gave you the right to call me by my name?" If Harry had not been awake before then he sure as hell wasn't sleeping now. All the years of loathing sparked almost painfully in his chest and head, throbbing as if his very magic wanted to inflict damage upon the blonde asshole.

"Nothing," he whispered, Draco's proximity the calming effect of his words, though Harry still felt his mind whisper protest at his disregarding, "sorry, Malfoy, I won't do it again." With those words, Harry shakily opened the door, easing out of the car as best he could. He shut it with the force of a well-mannered child, walking back to the house with a small wave to Lex and his head down.

Lex watched him go, eyes following Harry for a mere nanosecond before he resumed his goodbyes to Clark, a light hug and promise to see one another soon following the tall farmer's departure. The sparkling blue eyes trailed after the tall brunette, sharp eyes catching the slightest of swing in the slim hips of his best friend.

Draco cleared his throat loudly, clearly annoyed with his hair lacking counterpart's idleness. Crossing his arms over his chest, the bitchy blonde slid into the passenger seat of his cousin's nice, leathery car. He shuddered with the thought, if he got turned on with the mere caress of leather on his person, he truly needed to fuck someone. His cousin slid beside him a moment afterward. The blonde smiled to himself…

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_Well, that's it for now. I know it's a little short and it seems like i pushed the writing, but it'll be worth it, trust me..._

_**PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! (SUGGESTIONS ARE -STILL- OPEN) **_

_**SS**: Want a hot, steamy scene at the beach featuring our four main characters (Draco/Harry/Clark/Lex)? Review and tell me! If you want it uploaded on or just for your own personal 'pleasure', let me help you (grin)_

_Til next time,_

_Ash _


	9. Forbidden Tension

_Disclaimer:_ If you have to ask, then you need not know...

_**A/N:** Hello you lot...that was quick of me, wasn't it? One of you said something about 'the well drying up', so i was inspired. Sadly, though, i will not be loading that hot sex scene at the beach. I decided on something a little different that will last a lot longer than a quickie at the beach. Usually, i wait until there is at least ten reviews for each chapter before adding but i -did- make you guys wait for an extra long time, so i decided to load in high hopes of twelve reviews or more...  
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_**Warning**: There is sex in this scene, specifically a bit incestous, as there will be in following chapters. This chapter contains **Clark/Harry**  
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_Please forgive any mistakes you may see as my beta has become a lazy ass. I am currently on the look out for another one and would be happy if anyone would do me the honor of beta-ing my story. I hope this chapter appeases some of you... (smirking)_

_Here we go... _

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**_Before you read this chapter, please read the warning above. This type of sex has been rated smutter than R so skip it if you don't want to read it! _**

_Where we last left off... _

Draco cleared his throat loudly, clearly annoyed with his hair lacking counterpart's idleness. Crossing his arms over his chest, the bitchy blonde slid into the passenger seat of his cousin's nice, leathery car. He shuddered with the thought, if he got turned on with the mere caress of leather on his person; he truly needed to fuck someone. His cousin slid beside him a moment afterward. The blonde smiled to himself…

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**Forbidden Tension**

Harry Potter had not been a calm child. Appearances, however, had convinced his family and friends otherwise. Six years in the Wizarding World had not changed this fairly simple fact and he sure as hell was -not- going to change now that he was no longer a virgin, nor because he was staying with his aunt, her husband, and his adoptive cousin from Carajo Land, which just so happened to be in another galaxy. Thinking of which, when told this, our young Potter had no quarrels with it, in fact, he still thought having an alien for a cousin was kind of cool, but the truth was, like everything in his life, it was weird.

Therefore, when young Harry Potter stormed into the quiet little house belonging to his long lost aunt and her husband, he turned right back around at the sound of a car engine and screeching tires, signally the exit of the cause of his inate anger and sexual discomfort. He storming purposefully into the nearest field until he was a good distance away, which took longer than he expected, proximity half an hour, and glared at the sky.

It is also noted that sometimes, Harry can be a bit single minded. Clark, the tall, bulky alien, who Harry blamed everything for, presently, had been yelling and shouting for him within the time his cousin had been storming away, only now realizing he could, in fact, speed, or jog, in order to catch up to the angry teen. Thus, explaining Harry's single-mindedness as he had not heard him.

"Harry, what's-…"

Harry's face, tilted up to the sky scrunched and his fists tightened, caught on a large inhale as he let all the anger and sexual frustration go, his magic pulsing around him in a green wave of energy, knocking his cousin onto his back before him. His magic stopped immediately after coming in contact with a life form, a skill he had perfected after many weeks of training, which was the result of frustration, which, in turn, had led to a series of disturbing, and rather embarrassing, magical outbursts.

His wandering mind snapped to the reason his outlet had stopped at the sound of a pained groan, the shaking form of his cousin an outrageous turn on as he kneeled beside him.

"Clark, you okay?" Abruptly, Harry lowered his face to Clark's, not moving of his own accord. It took him awhile to realize the pressure of strong, farmer's hands on his arms, pulling him toward the seemingly unconscious but mobile Kent. "Clark?" He struggled lightly at first, his face becoming closer to Clark's, the tattered remains of his burrowed clothing rubbing uncomfortably against his skin, blocking Clark's hands from his tanned flesh.

Harry shuddered violently when Clark opened his eyes, the glassy green eye candy shivering to his now worn jeans. His struggle increased in urgency, this was just wrong, he couldn't do this, especially not with his cousin. "Clark, stop it," he whispered, a tremble in his voice. "Clark, please, don't, you're just feeling the magic, it's the magic, it's the…" his lips met thin, pale pink flesh in an almost bruising kiss. He could not help the groan that escaped him, his tense shoulders relaxing, lying fully on the tall Kent as Clark wrapped his arms around Harry's form, arms incased in the iron hold formally known as Clark's arms.

The vaguely innocent embrace did not last long, a strange heat engulfing Harry's senses, moments leading the hard reality of a ground at his back. His head bumped slightly with the motion, eyes blinking open, not having realized he had closed them to stare into the glassy orbs of his 'kin'. Clark loosened his hold around the raven-haired boy, the light film of daze clearing somewhat from his eyes, leading Harry's semi-sigh of relief as he felt the now bruised pink lips leaving his own.

The sigh was, however, in vain. Clark swooped down on him, arms sliding down his back in an uncomfortable way, hands grasping his wrists and pinning them on either side of his head. A sleek tongue, hot and wet, invaded his gasping mouth, full, hard body pressing sensuously into his own. The Boy-Who-Lived noted that he'd have to stop finding himself in these positions until his train of thought faltered. Clark's clumsy warmth atop him a shockingly refreshing change, his tongue thrusting in and out of his mouth in beat with the rocking of strong hips against his own.

The rough movement almost hurt, pushing him beseechingly into the hard ground, before he used a good amount of strength to push back, rocking his lips upward in a motion almost familiar to him thanks to his adventures in the dungeons of his school. His eyes snapped open at the thought, nearly spitting Clark's tongue out of his mouth, his back muscles working against the ground in order to sit up but being hindered by the large body above him.

Feeling the distress of the once pliant body beneath him, Clark's lips left his with a soundless slip of skin. Chiseled features came into focus, wrists eased of bruising pressure as Harry gulped in much needed a breath. "Clark…" the Golden Boy whispered, as if speaking too loudly would break the spell held over the both of them and not speaking at all would encourage it. The complication of the name belied Harry's conflicting emotions.

The large eyes above him cleared in recognition, and though the shock was evident upon his face, the hold around his wrists lessened no more than what they had when he began to sit up. Harry blinked largely, arching his back in a weak attempt to dislodge Clark from above him. Twin gasps issued from their mouths, Harry's action misread by his treacherous body, his semi-hard cock more than pleased with this new development, though partially disappointed when it's owner halted the movement.

Clark's bodily shiver shook his cousin as well. The tall teen had not felt anything like that in his existence, near identical to the episodes when he could not get the bald Luthor out of his mind sans the help of his left hand. His conscious mind warred with his subconscious, arguing that he was humping his -cousin-, the latter pointing out, quite loudly, that he was not related to him by blood.

Harry, a silent but horny witness of this, threw all precaution to the wind, similar thoughts running through the forefront of his mind. Harry's logic: 'Alien is Clark. Harry no Alien. Clark not Harry's blood relative.' His mind skimmed his primitive wording as he felt the tension above him melt into the kiss he initiated.

Working his wrists from the now slackened hold, Harry fisted Clark's hair roughly, feeling vindictive suddenly at the soreness in his wrists and groaning in delighted frustration when Clark moaned enjoyably. Harry flipped their positions, straddling the bigger boy and grasping the tails of his tucked shirt, ripping it open as he felt his previous anger simmer below the surface of pleasure, the buttons popping satisfactorily.

Clark gasped and groaned beneath his cousin, back arching as Harry's blunt nails dragged a red trail down his chest, the pain an odd pleasure he had never known. Another groan pushed its way through his lips as Harry pinched the brownish pink nipples, which previously rested on his chest, now standing at attention like battle hungry shoulders. All the while, Harry grounded into him, angling the rock of his hips so their cocks pressed against on another, satisfied shudders his reward. Gazing along the perfection of his cousin's chest, his eyes landed on the teasing button of Clark's jeans, curiosity getting the better of him. Trailing his hands roughly downward, Harry nearly tore off Clark's jeans, jerking them downward by lifting himself onto his knees, the ground a constant reminder of where they were, though Harry cared not.

Clark's sharp intake of breath led a pleased smirk curving his cousin's lips, the cold, a pleasant shock to his hard lift, a temperature he did not feel often, being invincible. Glancing down, his pleasure lidded eyes widened as he took in two things. One being the welts on his bare, previously flawless skin and the other, which cause him to disregard the former, was the sight of Harry's pink tongue trailing from his hairless bellybutton downward. He did not witness the rest of the younger boy's decent, head falling back to bump the ground violently, eyes closing to take in the entire feeling of a wet, hot tongue trailing where no tongue had gone before.

Harry's giggle became a chuckle as his curious tongue trailed the light hair leading downward, the pleasant taste of salt and powered sugar dancing on his tongue. The texture of skin underneath his sensitive taste buds prompting his understanding of why anyone would want to give a blowjob. He made a mental note to write an essay on how much fun it was and sending it to Professor Snape. He trembled anxiously at the thought before returning his full attention to Clark. The skin under his tongue quivered as he went lower, his hand trailing behind his tongue to massage the wet skin of his partner, the hairs tickling his nose delightfully, a feeling he was not used to unless it made him sneeze.

His eyes closed as his tongue met more hair, pausing to inhale the light musk of Clark, almost positive no human could taste or smell this good. His mind momentarily flashed to Draco before the thought was discarded with the upward thrust of Clark's hips. His eyes slid open to gaze up at the panting, sweating alien. Suddenly, a powerful surge of superiority washed over him at the sight of the strongest and possibly most powerful Muggle in the world reduced to a wanton groaner by his own inexperienced hands. And, for once, Harry understood why Draco topped.

Clark groaned in disappointment when Harry paused, head thrashing from side to side, eyes closed tightly as his powerful hips rose from the ground, bumping Harry in the chin with his eager manhood. As if snapped from a daze, Harry gazed at the reddened flesh of Clark's prick, his mouth watering in anticipation. Not a moment later, he lunged, engulfing the head into his mouth, immediately sucking.

The flavor surprised him; he had been prepared for the bitter taste of pre-come, adjacent to his own, but not the sweet strawberry that assaulted his senses so congenially. He groaned throatily, taking more of the large organ in his mouth, the cherry tinted flesh larger than his own by an inch or so.

Clark moaned loudly, buckling near violently. The wet heat surrounded his entire being, it seemed, and causing him to choke and squirm, the aggression would have knocked Harry off if the young wizard had not done anything to his powers. Clark's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as Harry licked him like a kid licking his favorite lollypop, sucking and nibbling at the head of his cock, his naïveté a minor factor in his exploration.

The strangest urge came over the Gryffindor, his eyes snapping open, looking into the face of his incoherent cousin. Harry smirked around Clark's cock, allowing the organ to slide from his mouth as he sat up.

"Don't stop, Harry, don't stop…" Clark groaned, eyes opening to look up into Harry's face, a smirk that reminded the panting alien of Lex curved his kiss-swollen lips.

"I'm not, dear cousin," he purred sexily, sounding, oddly enough, like Draco. He shook off the thought of the blonde and rose on his knees, lifting his shirt over his head.

Clark stared at the ripple of his cousin's muscles, packed tightly into his tanned flesh, rips poking only slightly as he stretched, a light trail of hair similar to his own pointing down into his 'trousers'. Eager and horny, Clark found himself growing even harder at the sight, surprising, as he had pegged himself for a tall, slim, bald guy liking kind of guy. He shrugged mentally, big hands clumsily working at the button and zipper of blue, worn jeans, which ripped off in his haste. Clark glanced up apologetically before doing the same to Harry's boxers. He took a moment to gaze in wonder at Harry's perfection, beyond himself as to why the sight that resembled his own, so much, awed him.

Almost purring, Harry pushed Clark back down fully, a light chuckle leaving the brunette's smiling lips as Harry positioned himself. Clark glanced down to see what was so funny, his eyes widening a moment before Harry impaled himself on the quivering prick of Clark Kent. Harry saw stars and Clark saw planets.

Both heads turned toward the heavens at the impanation, the angle of the prod hitting Harry's prostate dead on, the pain blurred pleasure as he felt something within him give and Clark…well, Clark had to have died.

"So tight…" he gasped, sounding in pain as he drove upward again, the pressure holding him on the edge as he continued, the boy above him rocking downward and nearly falling. Harry placed his hands on Clark's abdomen in order to keep himself steady, his strong hands resting on Harry's hips to help, the action also allowing his thrusts to hit that same spot he had hit before, his mind not cloudy enough to have missed the intense quake above him.

'Up, down, up, down, up down...' The mantra played in both heads, the sound of their pants a comfort in the ringing silence that mocked their sweating bodies. The pace sped simultaneously. Harry lost his balance when Clark began to blur, eyes shut tightly as he felt himself falling, suspended only by Clark's hands. He fell off the beat, Clark's thrusts lasting only a moment afterward before he felt his insides being coated with a warm substance.

Harry collapsed atop Clark, only realizing he had come when his torso touched the sticky white mess of his release, his tightly closed eyes softening peacefully as he listened to the calming heartbeat of the male below him, his hands on either side of his face. Harry sighed softly, strong hands moving from his bruising hips to wrap around his waist.

"Please don't hate me," Harry whispered suddenly, opening his eyes; his shoulders tensed at the thought of losing his new friend because of his teenage hormones and unruly magic. A stressed moment of silence passed before he felt Clark's chest quake. He looked up at the sound of laughter, Clark's big grin a pleasant shock. He grinned stupidly back.

"As long as you don't hate me for the bruises, I'd say we don't have to complicate this…" Clark blushed. Harry smiled softly at the endearing sight. "But Harry," the smile had faded from the older boy's features, the changing eyes averting in dark blue, suddenly guilty, "we can't let my parents know…or Lana…and…Lex…" the whispered name sent a light shiver down Harry's spin.

"I understand," though spoken in a downcast sort of voice, Harry's eyes spoke nothing but truth when Clark turned to check. The farmer grinned thankfully, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he tightened his hold on Harry's waist.

"That is how it's -should- be…" He said in a mock superior voice before he began to tickle the hell out of the momentarily content Boy-Who-Lived.

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Meanwhile, at Luthor Manor...

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_Well, that's it for now... Can you guess what is going to happen at Luthor Manor?_

_Note: Carajo Land- Spanish term for "fuck knows where"... (Hey, i thought it was funny shrug)_

_**SS**: Want more Draco/ Harry?Want more Lex/Clark? Check out my bio for the links! _

_(Both sites are rated G-NC17)  
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_**SUGGESTIONS ARE STILL OPEN PEOPLE,** JUST LOOK AT WHAT LALA'S SUGGESTION GOT YOU!_

_**PLEASE REVIEW!**_

_Next time: Draco/Lex_

_So, until next time, my wonderful reviewers,_

_Ash_


	10. Thick Tension

_Disclaimer_: Refer to previous rude comments located in previous chapters...

**_A/N_**: _Hello my dear reviewers! I know it's been a long time but I have an actual -reason- as to why i have yet to update. My choosen beta has not gotten back to me and it's been about a week so i decided, what the hell! If it's bad, tell me and if it's good tell me, therefore, i've cut out at least half of the reason for a beta..the other half of course, is the whole editing thing...but that's not important...yet...Mow I'm rambling. If i seem a bit off, all the blame goes to you lot as i've been tossing and turning over an exciting and interesting plot for this piece. Enough of this...let's get on with it... _

_**Warning:** **Incest, Male/ Male, Draco/ Lex, NC17ish** (For those of you that have a problem with Lex as bottom, don't fret. He -had- to be bottom cause Draco -had- to be top...want to know why...? READ!  
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_**Before you read this chapter, please refer to the warning above and -leave- if you have any problems with slash (homosexual pairings), Incest (not the mother/ daughter kind but the cousin/ cousin kind), or Smallville, Harry Potter action! **_

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Where we last left off... _

"I understand," though spoken in a downcast sort of voice, Harry's eyes spoke nothing but truth when Clark turned to check. The farmer grinned thankfully, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he tightened his hold on Harry's waist.

"That is how it's -should- be…" He said in a mock superior voice before he began to tickle the hell out of the momentarily content Boy-Who-Lived.

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**Thick Tension **

Meanwhile, at Luthor Manor…

Lex Luthor was a man of privilege. Thus, he did not like to be told what to do. Including, and especially, by his own body. His hands shook lightly, his car door opening with a patent squeak, the sound vibrating his eardrums not so lightly as he noted that he would have to dump this pile of trash. Yes, our Mr. Luthor was actually as rich as to get rid of a very expensive, very nice Porsche because of a squeaky door.

Draco Malfoy, another spoiled rich fuck, just happened to be just as privileged as his cousin, Mr. Luthor. So fortunate, that he, in fact, was richer than his cousin whom was fathered by an "outcast" of the Wizarding world. His problem lied in his hormones as well and being the over sexed, withdrawal driven teen that he was, he was not as inconsistent when his body told him to do something. And what, pray tell, did Mr. Malfoy want?

The sound of a head banging against the door of Lex Luthor's office answers this question. Draco wanted to fuck. And if he remembered correctly, Lex would be able to help him with his problem. While Clark and Harry were just beginning their adventure, Draco sat next to Lex, calmly, quietly, which, for him, was not at all characteristic. Hence, Lex prying into his mind, a motion only possible by devious Draco's allowance flashes of compromising and quite arousing positions starring himself and the Luthor offspring, the entertainment for the rest of the ride.

Accordingly, it was not a surprise in the least when Draco cleared Lex's desk with one flick of his wrist, not allowing the other aristocrat the chance to object as Lex was flung unceremoniously onto his own desk, a Malfoy attached to his lips. Draco groaned throatily when Lex finally responded, slim fingers gracefully undoing the knot that tied his swim trunks to him. Thought process clicked in as old tricks were used to play forever-new strings of arousal.

Lex smirked into their battle, as he was pushed completely on his back, his hands and fingers traveling in patterns he had drew with Draco as children, allowing his cousin to top him, just this once-something he always told himself on these rare occurrences. He chuckled when Draco made a keening sound, the cool air in his nether regions signally the loss of his only article of clothing.

Draco smirked at his chuckle, this game he never bored of. His mind trailed, as it often did when he prepared his sub. Their fathers had been appalled at the idea of them spending time together. The thought almost custom now: _if they could see us now_. He smiled up the pale expanse of slim muscle, admiring his cousin with eyes of knowledge, haven known the spots that would bring them both to completion without a touch.

His body ached as his tongue found the curve between each testicle, completely skipping the pre-licking down chest and abdomen, as well as the straining red flesh of Lex's erect shoulder. He felt the man beneath him arch from the desk, a whimper brushing against the contours of his mind, never to be released until hoaxed farther. He laved his tongue downward, enjoying the taste and smell of apples and musk, a flavor, even as a child, he could distinguish as unique.

Lex arched again, eyes staring unseeing at his Elizabethan ceiling, Draco's tongue laving downward, reaching his entrance. A long stroke caused a rather loud exhale, his will strong as Draco nibbled at him gently, the blonde's tongue joined by his fingers after long moments of devious tonguing and precise licking. He shuddered when Draco's long fingers scissored inside of him, wondering, in a brief flicker of coherent thought, if he should tell his young sex fiend that he had lube in the drawer next to his head. All thought stopped, yet again, when Draco's other hand wrapped securely around his cock.

All the teasing had been endurable, but this directness he was not accustomed to, and had he not had the endurance of a sexaholic, he most definitely would have came all over his fucking desk. Draco turned him over with ease and Lex, in a state of none coming concentration, was not prepared for the slamming of a cock into his ass. He noted the blonde had become an expert at preparation without lube and went to comment only to have his answer swallowed with another thrust, his prostate being hit with an un-Godly precision.

"Fuck, Draco," he hissed, rocking with the force of yet another thrust, not given time to recover from the last. As if his still adjusting body could not handle enough, a slim hand wrapped around his straining erection, his hanging legs shuddering at the thighs as he tried not to come so soon.

"That's the point," the seductive smirking voice did not help matters, though Lex could not remember the last time he was fucked this good or this well.

"You've been…" thrust, legs buckling, "practicing…" thrust, Draco kept him from falling to the floor. The thrusts picked up speed, Lex's eyes shutting as they rarely do when having sex, his head resting to the side as he took and buckled and returned every savage thrust, thankful that he healed quickly.

And just as soon as it had begun, it ended. Draco's body stilled as he came, hot spurts of cum shooting violently inside of Lex triggering his own release all over his new Persian rug. Not that he cared at the moment. "I need a cig." Lex sighed after a few moments, Draco's comforting weight twitching only slightly. He felt the uncomfortable cut of wood into his thigh, his desk not at all a comfortable place to sleep when half his body wasn't on it. _Note to self_, he thought, _buy more comfortable desk_. Life was good.

"You smoke?" Draco's groggy voice accompanied his movement as he finally stopped squashing his cousin. Lex shrugged before slipping to the floor, Draco flopping gracelessly next to him, two cigs in hand, both lit, appearing from nowhere. Draco inhaled loudly. "We should do this more often," he huffed, the white smoke mixing with Lex's exhaled ash.

"Smoke or Fuck?"

"Both are bad for you in the long run," Draco smirked back.

"Ain't life grand?" They both broke into peels of boyish laughter as the night sang with atypical episodes.

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Clark Kent awoke groggily, a stiffness in his muscles he was not accustomed to, head singing a dizzy lullaby, tempting his farmer tendencies to quiet for just a few more hours of sleep. He shifted then; mind still a pleasantly blank fog of nothing but satisfaction, feeling a lightweight on his chest when he did so. Opening his eyes, the reason for the oddities of his body were met in the form of one Harry Potter, the raven head resting peacefully on his chest, a lazy arm slung over his waist. A small smile met his lips, remembering the events of the night before with surprisingly little guilt and even less awkwardness.

"You're awake," the murmur was loud enough for his sharp ears, the raven head shifting and ruffling until he peered into green eyes near identical to his own. He smiled into the sleepy orbs, running a gentle hand down the strong jaw of his cousin.

"It's odd," Clark, purred, his chest rumbling in an animalistic sound of pleasure as Harry trailed kisses from his neck, downward, a small shiver of anticipation running down his spine.

"What?" Harry mumbled against his chest, nibbling at a nipple, feeling the tall farmer arch into him, a smile curving his lips against the lightly tanned skin.

"I should be freaking out, even angry…" Clark panted, feeling his eyes heating warningly, his back arching into the talented mouth running over his lean muscles, hands flexing as he felt his strength build. His biceps flexed, powerful abdomen muscles tightening as Harry's trailed even lower, light kisses yielding their innocence to long licks and purposeful suckling. "Ah, Harry, wait…" A deep sense of foreboding clasped Clark's heart, an extremely warm wave of –something- traveling through his body, cool air entering his lungs with a deep breath when Harry began to trail the light hairs of his stomach.

"Why? Do you want me to…" a long flick of his tongue over the eager head of the brunette's cock interrupted him for an eternity of two seconds, "stop?" Clark's body jerked, his exhale visible in a breath of cold air. Harry glanced up at the breeze, watching in fascination as the small hairs of Clark's stomach froze, his nose and cheeks flushing with the bitter cold.

The moment lost, no matter the presence of both of their erections, Harry blinked up at his cousin in surprise, green eyes blinking in equal astonishment. "Please tell me that was one of the powers you forgot to show me…" Harry muttered, running a hand over the thawing flesh, which flashed red before returning to normal.

"I…I didn't know I could do that…" A blush spread his cheeks at the sight of before him. Harry Potter, Clark realized, could possibly be famous for not only defeating Voldemort, as the young orphan told him, but also for his beauty. The problem with Ginny Weasley was not that she was incased in the bubble of his fame as the young wizard had thought, her problem had to have been his sexual appeal. The thought of his new power was discarded easily, Harry's lips softly parted, large green eyes staring up at him in the dim light of the sunset from his quite eager cock was not a picture to be taken lightly.

The sound of hooves beating into the ground alerted him of precarious position, soon to be discovered. With an unfathomable speed, Clark zoomed from beneath the Gryfindor, scooped him up and ran to 'the barn'. Harry blinked in confusion for a moment at the abrupt change in scenery, staring up at the panting form of his cousin, suddenly more comfortable then the hard ground of the field had made him but no less sated. He arched up experimentally, the pensive green eyes snapping down to him from the place above his head.

Harry noticed they were in the barn, the wood behind Clark's head and rough texture of the couch notable, that is, before Clark's thrusting against him.

"Why'd we leave the field?" he panted, sparkling eyes starting into the intense, and somewhat red gaze of his older cousin. Clark smirked down at him and again, Harry was distinctly reminded of Malfoy and Lex.

"I heard Lana…" Clark eased beside him, Harry's slim body allowing Clark's bulk to fit, though the couch was already a bit wider than what he was used to.

"Your crush…?" Though both were aroused, Harry felt content to simply spoon against the older male, sighing as a strong arm wrapped around his waist. He watched patiently as Clark propped his head up with his unoccupied arm, the green eyes moving every which way.

"About that…" Clark sighed, the cool air blowing the hair on Harry's forehead and causing him to shiver. "Harry, I have to be honest with you about my feelings for Lana, she's…um…not as important as she used to be…" Clark sniffed at Harry, feeling his nervousness receded strangely, oddly comforted by the smell. Harry tensed beside him, suddenly nervous at the prospect of hearing about Clark's feelings toward him, a torrent of how things could go bad if the alien suddenly thought they were in love because they slept together. Yet again, he was reminded of the blonde, the cruel coldness he treated Harry with frightening in the sudden casualty he felt in sleeping with Clark.

"Why is that?" he turned to stare intensely into his cousin's eyes, a look he picked up from Lex just yesterday, his body pressed flush against the harder body of his cousin. Clark applauded Harry's ability to learn so quickly, his resolve waving in light of it, eyes averting to stare at the space between the Gryfindor eyebrows.

"I've become…" he cleared his throat, "attracted to someone else, entirely, a big surprise, even to me." It wasn't that Harry was conceded, he just didn't fancy his cousin like that, and hell, he'd rather be in love with Malfoy… "It's Lex, Harry." The Gryfindor nearly missed Clark's confession at his own revelation.

He couldn't be, it wasn't right. Hell, it wasn't wrong. It wasn't -anything-. Bloody fucking hell! He could -not- love Malfoy! He could not -afford- to love Malfoy! He only slept with the git -once-, technically. And only cause he was –forced –! He was so screwed. He noticed the apprehensive look in Clark's eyes, the nervous shifting against him showing his cousin's wanting of an answer of some kind. Harry smirked, easily pushing his disturbing attraction to the blonde to the back of his mind. He ran a hand over Clark's broad chest, tweaking a nipple playfully and causing his cousin to smile.

"Understandable," was all that was said before Harry led them into a passionate kiss, tossing his leg carelessly over the hard, muscular thigh hands pressed intimately against the brunette. Clark gave him a mega-watt smile and Harry ached to know they were nothing more than cousins with privileges, though he found contentment in the ach. A pleasant shudder ran through them both as they humped one another, giggles and chuckles between pants at what they were doing.

The slick motion of skin against skin somewhat sticky and unhurried, neither moving to deepen their intimacy. Harry panted lightly against Clark's neck, enjoying the fast heartbeat against his own and muscular thigh between his legs. He might have found his kink when Clark spooned particularly rough against his thigh which moved between the alien's own legs. The moment heated to a simmering boil as Clark growled his release and Harry moaned "primitive" before meeting his own, toning down with steam and satisfaction.

"Thanks for being so understanding, Harry," Clark whispered, kissing Harry's temple as they lazed about, covering them with the thin blanket of his mother's knitting. Both were still half stiff but replete in their sexual appetites for now, soft kisses and light teasing lulling them in and out of consciousness until, about two hours of rest later, Clark's body became rigid, the roaring of an engine following his unrest. Harry awoke then as well, Clark noting that he would have to find out why they were so in tune with one another as it probably had to do with his heritage. He also noted he would have to stop noting stuff when he had no time to think it over during the time he did the noting, he supposed he got it from Lex, and the whole going off topic thing from Harry.

"Lex?" Harry asked as he sat up, shifting to stand in all his naked glory from the warmth of the couch and Clark to glance out the window. The tall farmer nodded, standing as well, hearing the squeak of the barn door, he clothed them, relaxing with a book after thrusting a ball in Harry's hand. Getting the hint, Harry flopped on the couch beside Clark, beating the tennis ball against the wall beside the couch, back leaning against the brunette.

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Lana scowled, the hooves of her horse the only sound echoing across the field. She could have sworn she saw Clark and that boy. Her instincts leading her directly to the spot after she had awoken. Her eyes flashed as she remembered:

_"__He's the key. The key to power, Lana, how can you deny your past so easily?" The harsh voice of her ancestor echoed in her head. Her large, forever-changing eyes fluttering open to stare into those identical to her own, though darker in color and nature._

_"__He's just Clark's baby cousin," the whisper was drowned out by near hysterical laughter. _

_"__And who is Clark? Do you know of the power that boy possess? It is no surprise that this new addition has aligned the stars so." Lana watched as the evil witch glided across the room, her hand blowing the balcony doors open as the shaken girl sat up, her hand gliding across the sky as if she could wipe them clean out of the sky. "We must gather our Allies, dear," Lana felt a pleasure like no other, similar, she concluded, to the glimpse of memory she had after the parasite incident. The stars, to her surprise, spelled out a name. The witch look alike smirked and disappeared._

_Lana smirked, standing on a long, sensual stretch. "Lord Voldemort, it is."_

Thus, her displeasure when she found nothing but uprooted earth and no matter how curious the sight, it lacked the people she required. She snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder at the sound of three loud "pops".

"Where -are- they?" One of the hooded figures hissed. She glared, waving a hand at the wizard, smirking when he made a keening sound and died.

"Take your scum back with you, I will not tolerate rudeness of any sort. As for the boys, be patient." She rode in the general direction of the Kent farm, sighing to herself at all the work it took to simply locate the elusive pair, a task she supposed, was proved difficult by the man named Dumbledore, the enemy of her newest ally. No matter, Elizabeth would deal with him as well, just another obstacle to overcome in her quest for the stones of power, which would come as soon as she located the key to the door.

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Alrighty, then. That's it for now! You should be pleased to note that i have the next chapter half done and plan on putting some more evil Lana, sexy Luthor/ Malfoy and Kent/ Potter in the near future...or maybe i'll take pity on Harry and let him and Draco have a go, just to spice things up a bit...!You won't know until ya read!_

_ **SS**: Hot and bothered? Wanna pass the time? Check out my bio! (Still looking for the songs promised? My bio has the links!)_

_**Next time:** Draco's sexually frustrated or just plan frustrated as something is wrong with his libido! DUN DUN DUHHHH! Harry and Clark become closer as Harry's feelings betray him and Lex takes notice of how close they have become. Can anyone say -jealousy-? How about "jealousy is a bitch"? Snape comes into the picture in following chapters and we discover his connection to Martha Kent and how she met her husband, a muggle! Sparks fly in the continuation of -DIRTY SECRETS-! _

**_SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN, PEOPLE! _**

**_PLEASE REVIEW!_**

_ Until next time,_

_Ash _


	11. Fuck Tension

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Harry Potter or Smallville….so fuck off…grinning

_**A/N**: Sorry it took so long to update. College applications and high school senior year is fucking me up on an entirely new level! So, cope with me, I've managed to add a bit to all of my present stories, now it's just a matter of posting them. Please be patient…_

_**Chapter Rating: R **_

_**Warnings**: **Incest, Male/ Male** The usual, male action, there should only be minimal incest in this one and, finally, some** Lex/Clark and Draco/Harry** in later chapters._

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Dawn at Luthor Manor… 

Draco Malfoy was not a morning person, especially when the morning he was referring to started with one hell of a headache and his body's complaints. The night before had simply been a repeat of many other nights spent in his cousin's presence, sans the smoking and evident sense of oddity. Lex, he concluded, was feeling much the same way as the bald heir of the Luthor fortune shifted beside him with a curse. Draco turned his head slightly to look into confused blue orbs.

"Headache?" Lex nodded. "Body aching?" Lex nodded, tilting his head slightly, "body aching –abnormally-?" He corrected, receiving a positive nod and a raised eyebrow of inquiry. He shrugged in response, noting how late it was by the green eight of the expensive looking Muggle clock on the nightstand behind Lex.

Draco sighed, resting his head on the silk pillow beneath his head as Lex attempted to toss an arm over his chest, only to pause and groan half way, tossing his arm back down, the bald head turning into his pillow as if to suffocate himself.

"What in all hell is going on, Draco?" he growled, head snapping toward Draco with intensely burning eyes, frustration flushing his pale face in a way Draco's had only once.

Oddly enough, the blonde was reminded immediately of Potter.

"I've no idea." Lex stared at him, attempting to open Draco's mind only to find the wall of privacy erect and hard, like he was, right now, and if the tent in the silken blankets was anything to go by, as was Draco. "But I propose a visit to your friend's home, as I have a few things to ask Potter…" Draco arose, intent on making a few calls before the inevitable meeting with his rival.

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This is why Draco stood on the impossibly sturdy steps leading to the loft housing the Kent boy and Potter. He had been the one to redirect both himself and Lex to the barn, a "haven" for Clark, as Lex has put it. He shrugged, continuing his descent upward, eyeing Lex's tight ass the entire way and feeling nothing but frustration at his lack of arousal. He grumbled to himself as he descended the last step, irritably walking around his curiously frozen cousin. Only to freeze as well, his silver eyes smoldering in desire at the sight of Potter, sprawled semi-casually against the Kent boy.

"Hey, Lex," Clark grinned, standing from the couch only to have Potter flop behind him, his feet kicking up into the air as he tossed the ball repeatedly against the ceiling.

"Hey, Draco," Harry intoned, glancing at the pair. Draco's blood rolled through his limbs, centering in his crouch and causing a momentary wave of euphoria. Beside him, he heard Lex clear his throat repeatedly before Clark enveloped him in a bear hug. Potter got up, tossing the ball behind him before he smirked and winked at Draco, walking up to the pale pair. "To what do we owe the visit?"

This was all wrong; there was something off about Potter, something wrong with him, something…fucking hot! Draco took a step forward, his blood boiling, his teeth bared, only to have everything cooled and set on the back burner with Lex's hand on his shoulder.

"You okay, Draco," Clark asked with a bit of a frown, Potter's eyebrow raised, his head cocked to the side like a puppy…cocked.

"Draco," Lex insisted, the hand on his shoulder giving him a comforting squeeze, "do you want to come back later?" Draco shrugged off the shoulder, taking a few deep breaths.

"There's something wrong with me, Potter, I need your help," he managed to hold back the flinch, "I've already contacted the professor." His back straightened, he could feel his cock filling even more, and he would not…he took a deep breath. "Come with us."

"What's going on, Harry?" Clark's voice was slightly shaky, eyeing Lex and Draco with distrustful eyes. Harry's smirk fell, eyes searching Draco's for a moment before he nodded, pushing pass him and walking down stairs.

_2222222222222222_

Professor Snape entered the house in a whirlwind of soot, a glare that would have made Neville shit his pants resting on his face, the recipients shifting slightly in their seats.

"Only you would fuck this up, Potter," Snape spat, pacing before the fire he had just come from.

"Professor!" Clark shouted in shock. The professor was nothing like he expected. Tall dark and greasy didn't do the man justice and ….semi-active which explained Harry's attraction to the much older man.

"And look, a Muggle to go along with it all," several obscenities followed Snape's commentary.

"Professor, what exactly is going on…?" Harry asked, tired of shifting in his bloody seat while Snape paced back and forth.

"Death Eaters were sighted near the Kent boy's home," Snape sneered. Harry dropped back down; face pale, eyes slightly wider than normal as he stared at the floor. But, this was supposed to be different, this was his home, he hadn't even spent enough time with Aunt Martha! Fuck! "Not to mention that Draco's problem seems to have erupted," Snape muttered under his breath, "oddly, just when Potter's inheritance…"

"What inheritance?" Harry's head snapped up, suspiciously eyeing the now frozen professor.

"Death Eaters?" Clark asked.

"Voldemort's followers." Harry said offhandedly. "-What- inheritance?" he emphasized. Snape paused in his pacing, before he turned to the fire place.

"You will stay here for the time being, all of you, that includes you, Kent. I will contact you in two days. Until then, do -not- leave the premises," Snape tossed the floo powder into the still green flame, stepping inside.

"Wait," Harry and Draco shouted in unison.

"You can't leave me here like this," Draco scowled, leaping from his seat.

"What bloody inheritance!" And like that, Snape was gone.

_333333333333333333_

Harry's head hurt a throbbing pain just behind his eyes and on the peek of his temple. "Run that by me one more time, Malfoy, and this time; don't stare at me for long periods of time between each word." Draco sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose as he flopped onto the chair he was beginning to claim; Lex haven excused him self to the bar to collect a few rounds of scotch for all of them.

"Malfoys bad people. Malfoys cursed. Malfoys sexy and seductive. Malfoys choose most powerful person to be mate. If there is no powerful person available that meet standards of beauty and wealth, said Malfoy dies. Get it, Wonder Boy?"

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"Or me?" Clark put in.

"I am a Malfoy as well as a Luthor," Lex's voice filtered from behind the bar to the far side of the room.

"So you're going through whatever Draco is going through, too?" Clark asked, shifting in his seat. "Does that mean you have to mate as well?"

"Yes, and our mates were chosen, but they were not proper and…as a result…" his eyes flickered to Draco's for a moment, receiving a hesitant nod before he continued, "we sought comfort in one another." Harry and Clark gasped, both turning interesting shades of red, sharing a look. "That is, until last night, we await the professor and the headmaster to tell us why…"

"Why didn't you tell me…?" Clark hissed, standing slowly, eyes full of hurt and a hint of jealousy.

"Clark…I didn't think it was on a need to know basis…"

"What? That you're a wizard? That you're sleeping with your cousin because you have no other candidate worthy of your blood?" he shouted.

"Clark, calm down," Harry hushed, standing up as well, putting himself between the two. "This isn't about that…"

"You have room to talk, Clark," Lex hissed, blue eyes narrowed and icy, "as if you're an angel. That farm boy act wore off a long time ago. All those lives you saved, all that righteous shit only for you to lie in my face. And you fuck your cousin, just as much as I do mine." Harry shivered, as well as Clark, Draco standing.

"Enough." He sneered, gliding toward his cousin. "We have two days together, enough of this. The two of you can take the guest wing. Lex and I will get the maid to show you to your rooms. Lex," Draco grabbed him and a bottle of Scotch. "We will discuss this tomorrow."

_4444444444_

The sun just set, and Clark wondered where the day had gone as he watched the last specks of light flicker and die. He sighed as tan arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Why don't you come in and rest a bit?" Harry asked against the alien's ear, resting his head on Clark's back. Clark sighed. He couldn't penetrate whatever field was surrounding Luthor manor and its lands. With all his powers he couldn't overcome the invisible shields. "Stop thinking so hard."

"What's going on, Harry?" Clark sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time, turning in Harry's arms to face the shorter boy. Harry shrugged.

"I've none of the slightest idea, but we might as well make the best of having this mansion to ourselves…" Harry grinned slyly up at Clark, pressing his pajama clad body against the other.

"But Lex…and Draco…" Harry shrugged again, kissing Clark, the curtains from the balcony blowing around them, the moon's light allowing just enough lighting for a romantic setting. The dry, innocent kiss caused a little shiver of pleasure for each. Harry was the first to pull away.

"Don't worry about them. We could both use a bit of a distraction, don't you think…?" Harry giggled when Clark picked him up, full out laughing when he was tossed onto his bed.

* * *

_That's it for now, review and all that, if you would..._

_ Also...can I have a count as to those who would like some more Clark/Harry action...? I want to know if I should put it up or should I just jump right into the Lex/Clark and Harry/Draco...?  
_

_SUGGESTIONS ARE OPEN!_


	12. Damn Tension

Disclaimer: _Welcome all the bastards that want to sue me…but guess what…? I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own Smallville, so, you can go sit on a turtle…_

_**A/N**_: _Sorry it has taken so long for me to update…I was kinda trying to tie some loose ends within the story when I realized the basic smutty goodness was disappearing. So here it is, and, trust me, the story will become clearer and more exciting…other than the sex…as we progress as I hate 'chick fics'. Thanks to ALL MY REVIEWERS. SPECIAL THANKS TO : **violentbeautygothika**, my 100 reviewer…!_

_**Chapter Rating: NC-17**_

**_Warning:_** _**Incest, Male/ Male** The usual, male action, there should only be minimal incest in this one, as Harry and Clark aren't really related, finally, a bit of **Lex/Clark, and Draco/Harry** will appear in later chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

_From where we left off…_

"Don't worry about them. We could both use a bit of a distraction, don't you think…?" Harry giggled when Clark picked him up, full out laughing when he was tossed onto his bed. "Since when did you become so aggressive?" Harry leered up at the tall farmer, a sly grin gracing the plains of his face as Clark began to undress.

Clark shrugged, brow furrowed at a sudden thought of Lex, his smooth, pale skin, his piercing blue eyes. Clark shook his head, he was with Harry now. He shimmed out of his pants, eyes locked to that of the raven-haired boy upon -the- guest bed of -Luthor Manor- as Harry took his own pants off his muscled, tanned legs. The alien could not ignore the fact that the thought of Lex walking in them was hot and his slowly rising erection twitched in excitement.

Harry blinked rapidly as he pulled his shirt from over his head. Draco? No. Draco looked nothing like Harry's alien counterpart. Hell, they were complete opposites in more ways than one. Blonde and brunette. Tan and pale. Alien and human (or something –like- human), but wasn't Clark more human than Draco? Taller and tall. And both had –large-, gorgeous…bodies! Yes, that's what he was thinking…! Large bodies!

"It's kinda disconcerting to hear you talk about your rival while we are about to have sex," Clark smirked good-naturedly, crawling up the bed to kneel between Harry's spread legs, the Gryffindor haven propped himself onto the long expanse of the headboard, legs and arms opened in welcome.

"Note to self: No thinking aloud." Harry cursed under his breath, looking down in shame for a moment only to stare defiantly up at his cousin afterward, wrapping his arms around the thick waist. "You were thinking about Lex just now," he countered, running his dull nails down the unyielding flesh of Clark's chest. He felt the strong body before him shiver, the skin under his nails tightening as the alien flexed his abdominal muscles.

"I could never tell a lie," Clark whispered, leaning down the short space and sitting on his thighs, resting his head into the crook of his cousin's neck, inhaling the soft scent of sweat and soap.

"You didn't exactly admit to your thoughts, you know…?" Harry returned, tilting his head to the side to give the now roaming mouth and tongue better access to his ear and neck.

"Yeah," Clark enjoyed the little huffs of breath his younger cousin made, the comment spoken into the slightly protruding bone of Harry's collar. He yanked at one of Harry's hips, the boy under him and pressed into the mattress in one swift move. His saliva and breath followed the slant of bone to the center of Harry's chest, eager as he was; he progressed slowly, trailing downward and sideways to lave worship upon one of the eager peeks that was the Gryffindor's nipple. "Harry," he said after a moment of silence, reassured in his fair treatment of both nipples, biting slightly the left one in a promise of return.

He removed his mouth from the wet skin of his cousin. "Harry?" he asked, a soft smile curling his lips as he listened to the whine of loss. "I want to go down on you…I want to take you in my mouth like you did me…but harder, slower, longer, just until you come. Then I want to be inside you, Harry, not touching you, just my cock to stimulate you, would you like that?" Clark had –no- idea where –that- had come from. He shivered at the purr that left his lips, swearing in his head that he had just channeled some type of Luthor or Malfoy.

When Harry opened his eyes, Clark's "almost smirk" fell, as did he when Harry tightened the lose, stroking hold he had on his back, groaning into the fierce kiss Harry induced, attacking the aggressive tongue and teeth and pure -heat- that made up the Gryffindor's mouth. Harry panted against Clark's lips, grasping and pulling at whatever part of his cousin's body he could, arching and writhing like a fucking animal in –heat-, only serving the fire wood as it grew and built between them.

"In me…" Harry whispered throatily, spreading his legs wider, his ass higher, and grabbing Clark's dripping cock. "In me…now…Clark…" he gasped. Clark shook his head, attempting to pull from Harry's skin only to find his strength sapped and needed in a completely different part of his anatomy. He fought only long enough to utter a few dire words.

"We should use lube…or protection…or…fuck!" The rough, violent slam of his length into the tight, dry sheath of Harry's body caused stars to shoot into his vision. His conscious brain took a slight break as he writhed, rutted with each thrust upward from the Gryffindor before he came back to himself, rocking into the willing body beneath him and breaking the rhythm, enjoying the friction of heat and intimacy for a mere moment before his orgasm was milked from him, followed shortly by Harry.

Note to self, he thought as he slid out of the cum coated sheath, lying on his side and opening his arms to the cuddle of the Gryffindor, teenagers don't take much to cum, less stimulation in future sexual encounters, at least until thirty.

_1111111111111111111_

Most people didn't notice that Lex Luthor had OCD. His father did, though, which was annoying in itself. He sighed to himself, chalking up his wandering thoughts to this new situation, idly adjusting his laptop every few seconds or so. The laptop in question didn't move but a millimeter which was fine by him, because he liked it better that way. He moved it again, or maybe it was better the other way. He moved it again…

Taking a long slip of his brandy he sighed to himself, eyes dropping as he moved his laptop once more before closing his eyes for just a moment of rest. His head lulled to the side, eyes rapidly moving as it took only a moment for sleep to find him and wrap its arms gently around his willing shoulders. His last conscious thought as he fell asleep was to send a few thousand in thanks to the designer of his desk as it was superbly comfortable.

"Hey, Lex," the shuffling feet were always a good sign, which either led to an apology or a chance hang out with his younger counterpart, "ya busy?" Damn, he would have to move that carpet an extra two inches to the left. Lex sighed again, he would have to get back on his medicine soon if he didn't want this to go on forever…He moved his laptop again. Shrugging lightly, his screen went blank with a few memorized clicks of his long, pale fingers.

"No, Clark, I'm not busy and, if you don't mind I'd like to get back to my cousin, as should you," maybe his tone should have been a little softer, or maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have said it at all if the hurt puppy that was his "best friend" was anything to go by.

"Oh…" Clark sighed, his shoulders sagging as he turned away. Just before he made his first step he turned back around, shoulders squared, spine straightened in standard Kent determination. "if you are looking for an apology…" he was expecting some righteous speech about how aliens don't apologize, but, then again, it wasn't like Clark was aware, at all, that he knew his secret, "you have it…you have my utmost sincerity behind it as well." The boy had been hanging around him for far too long. "But," and there was always a but, Lex thought as he stood, moving to his convenient water and soda refrigerator, "I will not be ashamed of Harry…or whatever the hell is going on between us."

Now probably wasn't the time for him to get hard, or the time for thinking about how much it was a turn on when Clark cursed. Then again, they had about 25 hours, thirteen minutes and seventeen seconds of time, so what the hell…nineteen seconds.

"I don't expect you to be, Clark, just as I'm not ashamed of my relations with Draco." He heard the gasp, could feel the hurt that was almost tangible in the air…and wasn't this supposed to be about Draco and Potter? Thirty-nine seconds. He turned water in hand, counting how many he had left before he closed the door. He took a long gulp of it before looking at the boy. He could practically hear Clark shift in his skin, the changing greenish eyes hardened in determination. It was as if the ground shook as he watched and counted each step of Clark's stride toward him. "Clark…?"

Luthors didn't get scared, uneasy or unsure but Malfoys did and he supposed he was channeling that part of himself now as he felt a startling mixture of all of them in a huge ball of arousal and excitement. He never really noticed how tall Clark was and he kept it in mind to ask him his measurements one day, or, better yet, to measure the tall farmer himself. And he really needed to take his medicine.

Clark's eyes were searching and serious as he placed his big hands on Lex's waist, face becoming steadily closer, giving Lex precisely ten seconds to pull away before the Luthor finally became tired of counting and moved the meeting of skin along.

The kiss was nothing like he expected it to be nor was it what he didn't expect. Whereas he had pegged the kiss to be innocent, a brushing of lips in just the right lighting, which he had forgot to have built, (damn it), this was bruising, passionate, hungry, deep within nana-seconds and hurtful as he was pushed roughly into the little refrigerator. And, damn it, if the stab of cool metal into his ass didn't feel this good, and, damn it, why did Draco never taste like this? And, fuck…

Clark's hands were everywhere at once, throbbing and pulsing with real skin and real blood and…shaking. Air, seemed like a thing from the past, such mundane things didn't matter in situations like this. It took him a moment to realize Clark had pulled away, opening tightly closed eyes that had spots dancing in front of them, little spots that looked like angels dancing around Clark's head. There were exactly twenty-seven. Note to self: medicine.

"Lex," it also took him a moment to realize Clark's big green eyes were filled with concern and worry and, so fucking hot. He made a note to visit a church and give them a hundred thousand fucking dollars for making the angels such good dancers; they really made the star of the show stand out. "Lex?"

"Yes?" he asked, also just now noticing that he had his hands tangled in star Kent's hair and his legs wrapped tightly around the thickly muscled waist.

"Shouldn't we talk about…" words. Such mundane things, like air. He attacked Clark's mouth with a fierceness that screamed M-I-N-E!

"Lex, my dear cousin, you shouldn't sleep on your desk, it's bad for your posture, not to mention the engravings that will grace your flawless pale skin." Where the fuck did Draco come from? Lex opened blurry eyes to stare at pale, perfect feet of his cousin.

"Clark…" he asked stupidly rising his head and wiping his mouth. He hadn't fallen asleep at his desk in God knew how long. He eyed his half empty bottle of brandy and concluded to not drink as much when he was so tired, it could lead to potentially embarrassing situations. "Draco?" Yes, no more drinking.

"Yeah…" the blonde gave him that searching "are you drunk" look, gliding to his sofa and plopping down. "How much have you drunk and do you want some?" Draco held up a bottle of wine, half empty from the looks of it. Hey, he was a business man; the glass is always half empty rather than half full…Yeah, no more drinking.

* * *

_Well, that's it for now. I hope the lot of you were satisfied as I decided to do half and half without the actual "never changing pairing of Clark and Lex and Harry and Draco"thingactually happening._

_PLEASE REVIEW!_

_SUGGESTIONS ARE FUCKING OPEN, PEOPLE...!_


	13. Spotting Tension

_Disclaimer_:_ I do not own Harry Potter. So…. your mom!_

**_A/N_**: Sorry it took so long, been going through a bunch of life changes and stuff. Hope you like it, I thought it was about time I tied some strings, but not too many…you'll see what I mean.

**Warning**: **Incest**...Gay people, gay things, bit of cursing, nothing hardcore…yet.

* * *

_Where we last left off…_

"Yeah…" the blonde gave him that searching "are you drunk" look, gliding to his sofa and plopping down. "How much have you drunk and do you want some?" Draco held up a bottle of wine, half empty from the looks of it. Hey, he was a businessman; the glass is always half empty rather than half full…Yeah, no more drinking.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

He patted wildly at his pants pockets, shivering when he remembered that he had just run out of his meds last night. The distraction of 3 gorgeous men in his home -one of which he was madly infatuated with- must have made him forget to order someone to get them. Well…fuckage…fuckage? He'd been hanging around Clark for far too long. Or maybe not long enough. It took him a few seconds to feel the intensity of his cousin's gaze pass the wine bottle at his lips, which he did not recall taking. That was going to bother the hell out of him later. Didn't he just assert the 'no drinking' law. Oh well, it wasn't on paper.

"Thirsty?" And the bottle was still in the air, most people would applaud his breathing skills not mock his ability to down half a bottle of wine. Draco raised that damn eyebrow and he thought of hexing it off a bit, just enough to give it the feminine curve the blonde needed to start his life as a woman with a cock. He laughed to himself.

"Just a little," rising to his feet was not as easy a task as Draco made it seem and he stumbled, leaning against the wonderfully comfortable desk.

"Now I have to get more drinks. Bastard." The casual tone soothed his ringing ears and made the world tilt not so much. He now remembered why the blonde was his favorite relative; maybe he wouldn't curse him with the life of a transsexual. He watched his cousin with apt attention, for fear of more tilting, noting the slight swing of his hips, the grace in his walk-maybe he would.

A sound, however, distracted him, almost like the swishing of tree leaves. It grew louder and was finally distinguishable as boyish laughter, dare he think, giggling? The sound of giggling grew steadily closer and he could not warn the blonde, armed with two bottles of wine and directly in the line of fire, as two straws hit Draco directly between the eyes.

All noise stopped, and Lex could have sworn he saw a ball of Wild West weed roll by. Clark and Harry stood in the doorway, both equally guilty and sheepish. Draco's eyes were flames and Lex…Well; he was still leaning, as casually as possible, against his comfy desk. Quite drunk.

"What, exactly, do you think you two are doing?" Harry was quite impressed with the blonde's Snape impression and withheld the urge to clap and whistle. It was quite obvious, Lex deduced, that they, too, had "indulged" a bit, as their faces were flush and their eyes far too bright for good humor alone.

"Uh…well…" of course, elegant as ever, Clark.

"It was Clark's idea!" Harry shouted suddenly, and Clark's dumbfound expression took on that of great outrage.

"Traitor!" Clark erupted.

"Everyman for himself!" Harry yelled and not a moment too soon as Draco came charging at them both with the wine bottles in hand, a war cry at his lips.

The activity was all too much for Lex's inebriated mind to handle and, in a wind whirl of motion, they, somehow, ended up in the entertainment room. Popcorn and empty bottles of wine and brandy littered the floor around the couch. His thighs were quite comfortably squashed under the weight of Clark's big head, his shoulder heavy with Draco's and Harry leaning casually under the blonde's arm, munching heavily. Someone screamed somewhere and he jumped, only to color slightly at the chuckle of laughter around him when he realized it came from the large screen.

Draco's heart felt like it would beat from his chest. The Gryfindor boy smelled of sweet cologne, sex and Clark, it was only by nature and a distinct sense of knowing that he could tell it was in fact the Golden boy and not the alien himself. His head spun with the mass of alcohol he had consumed, and the heady scent of sex and Potter did not help matters. His only saving grace was the cool fabric at his cousin's shoulder, which he leaned into. The movement however distanced him from Potter and he did not know if that was something he wanted or not. Harry made the decision for him, thankfully, snuggling into his side more firmly as if to make a point.

The air was heavily with the scent of their arousal. And it was strange, Harry thought, tossing another cornel into his mouth. His mind, like many, began to wander in it's intoxication. All the unanswered questions, all the lies he was sure to find behind this momentarily veil of comfort.

His fuzzy mind began to clear as his consciousness continued to produce strange connections. Draco and Lex could not have sex because of their mates. What did that mean? Did it have something to do with Clark and himself? Their, now, frequent divulging in one another's body? Or maybe with this sudden mystery inheritance? And the death eaters? Had they appeared while he and Clark were in the field? And if they had, did they see? Voldemort could use Clark against him…but Clark was powerful in himself, could he hold his own against Voldemort, even with his invulnerability? Could he outlast the killing curse? Harry felt an icy chill run up his spine and all pretenses of the effect of the alcohol left his body. His imagination ran wild, as the killer on the screen killed yet another unsuspecting victim.

The severity of the situation began to overwhelm him. He started to connect the dots much like Hermoine would have if she had been present. What was Lana doing in the field? Why had he been so fucking –horny- that he had to accost the only family he was to have known? Why could he feel Lex and Draco and Clark's arousal as if he were pressed against their bodies?

As the scene shifted on the screen, he came to few but monumental conclusions. His inheritance had to have something to do with his increase in libido as he was certain sex had not been on his mind so often before (even as a healthy teenage boy with a crush on his Potion's professor). And, in relation, his inheritance had something to do with Clark. The almost instant connection he felt with the alien was something he would only have heard about from Hermoine spouting her nonsense about romance novels and the like. His mind traveled to the little he had been told about Lex and Draco's situation and he almost vomited with the implication.

"Potter?" he heard Draco say, when he hopped to his feet, head spinning, face screwed up in a grimace. Their mates were unworthy? –Were- unworthy? But were not unworthy anymore? Because of him- Draco needed his help? He and Clark lost their virginity to one another…the earth shaking…his inheritance. Mates? The only Potter heir thought he was going to be sick and would have collapsed had Malfoy not grabbed his shirt and pulled him back on the couch. The comfortable calm of the air, and the drifting scent of arousal, extinguished completely as, suddenly, the other three men crowded the drugged looking Gryfindor.

"Harry," Clark's worried voice broke through the haze of thoughts scattering through his mind and he had to let them out, "are you okay?" He had to let them out before he exploded, or imploded, or something…worse… Darkness colored the corners of his vision before he could speak and his world went black on a lingering thought: he was also almost certain that Lana had something to do with the appearance of the death eaters.

* * *

_Hope you liked it, please review._

_SUGGESTIONS OPEN!!_


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